Recruitment Drive
by tldrOtter
Summary: Months have passed since the Aparoid invasion, and Star Fox is down to two members. With both pilots recently single and facing a personnel shortage that threatens their ability to carry on, Fox and Falco can only either find a third member or disband. Wolf O'Donnell's longtime rival, determined to strike a deal, boards his ship alone to offer a fresh start with a new team.
1. Foot In The Door

AN: This work is deeply in development and can use all the feedback it can get. I'm still very new to this site and ignorant of its norms and goings-on, and tend toward using Google Docs for my writing and editing. I enjoy its comment system of highlighting text and adding comments to specific passages. That being said, I appreciate any feedback I can get, for better or worse. The Docs link is here: document/d/1s1pNabTNwT_WkOIOLudbblAg1Jer8JxZQRrYD_mn348/edit

I'm also eager to discuss what I'm doing, address concerns, or answer questions, especially now while the story isn't completely written. I've already delved about 15k words in, and the entire thing will likely approach 40k words or so by the time I'm done. The sooner I catch mistakes or inconsistencies, the better.

Also, thanks for reading. I really do appreciate it.

Chapter 1

"I'm down with it if you are, Fox, but… you're really sure?" Falco asked.

They'd gone over this a dozen times. Peppy was retired, Slippy was married and semi-retired, and Krystal was… gone, for lack of a better word. Team Star Fox, in effect, was no more; Fox and Falco remained, and they needed a third.

"Not unless you care to suggest a last-minute replacement," Fox replied. "Besides, we owe him."

"Bah," Falco spat. "Couldn't those senators have done us the _one_ favor we actually asked for? I'd rather just have the debt paid off. Have one more excuse to leave him the hell alone forever."

"That's why I do this one alone," Fox said. Falco huffed and broke eye contact. "And enough with the attitude. I'll handle it alone and keep you updated. Besides, we've agreed-"

Falco finished the sentence.

"He's the only one who could keep up. Yeah, I get it." The bird leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms. He gazed pensively over at his Arwing, which sat in the rented government's small hangar beside Fox's. "It's shitty that our options are recruiting him or splitting up altogether, but I'll accept it. It'd be a lot easier if Bill had been open to leaving the military, but I swear I'm not leaving again."

"Is that-"

Falco didn't wait for Fox to say whatever he was starting. He embraced Fox warmly and held him there as the vulpine returned the gesture. Fox was certain that, just like they rushed through his, memories of their recent nights together were rushing through Falco's head. Nights where Fox was full-swing on the rebound and Falco was desperate enough to drop the straight-as-a-needle act. Good nights. For a moment, he closed his eyes with feathers against his fur, and Fox flashed back to being physically spent and overall just happy to be alive in the moment.

"Sheesh," Falco said, releasing Fox and softly shoving him back. "I'm gonna have to screw girls until I lose count after this, you know that?"

The moment was gone. Fox fully believed that a week of debauchery was exactly what Falco had in front of him-what he felt he needed, even, and that killed the mood.

They'd gone down this road before. Fox was lonely after his breakup with Krystal, and Falco had… an addiction, to put it mildly. Falco had been willing to settle for Fox because he needed someone, and Fox was willing to accept that because he needed intimacy with someone who actually _cared_.

But that was all Fox was going to get out of his longtime friend and partner. Falco had been explicit enough to kill any false hope. Taking things any further was a pipe dream, always dismissed or laughed off, and Fox was gradually learning to accept the reality. Falco was at least a bit more open about how he felt than he was before, and Fox could live with that.

"Yeah? Well, keep your phone nearby," Fox said. "I'll call you every night."

"If I don't hear from you for two days straight, I'm coming back and kicking his ass," Falco promised. "He might think he's the best pilot that isn't Fox McCloud, but he ain't seen me pissed off yet."

They nodded in tandem. Fox trotted off to his Arwing without another word. He silently berated himself for wondering whether or not Falco watched him until his ship was completely out of view.

Their separation wouldn't be for long, but Fox knew he'd miss the bird.

The target ship, floating in orbit over the foreign planet, wasn't as great or as impressive as Fox had expected. With access to all the resources of Sargasso, Fox expected a pretty good flagship out for an expedition like this beyond known space, but the ship was… well… old.

It was probably forty years old, decorated on the outside with the outline a fanged canid head that looked like it had been bleached by decades of starlight. It looked like it might have been nice when it was built, but its age showed even from the exterior. It was also small; the ship couldn't have been even a quarter of the size of the Great Fox, and clearly lacked the cannon range and overall functionality that a warship would have.

Was his situation really so bad that this was all he could muster?

From his Arwing, Fox sent out a series of antiquated bridge-triggering RF signals, hoping that one of them would click so that he wouldn't have to open comm channels. It'd be easier, for once, to handle things on the ground rather than in the air.

By fluke, Fox clicked the right button early into the one thousand possible wavelengths, and the docking bridge opened, much to his relief. Fox's Arwing flew into the hangar and parked by a notorious, familiar fighter ship that would _not_ be firing its lasers at him today, at least.

The halls were… different than he'd expected. There wasn't much space on the ship, but every inch of the walls had some sort of memento plastered onto it. A few of the faces were familiar, and a few were completely foreign, probably from the owner's childhood or distant past.

A little on edge, Fox continued to prowl through the ship, careful not to be caught off guard. At the end of a somewhat long hallway, he found the room he was looking for, as well as its occupant.

"Looks like you've found me already, pup," Wolf said. Fox's rival stood at the foot of his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. The gray canid's fists were raised, and a snarl rested on his face. "You know, I really thought I could escape it all if I came out here, but you've followed me all this way and intruded on my home. Not sure if I'm impressed or disgusted, but whatever. I'm pretty sure I know why you're here. Let's get this over with."

Wolf dashed at Fox, and in the blink of an eye, he'd nearly closed the distance between them. He stopped abruptly, crossing his arms at his chest with a disgusted look on his face.

"Don't make me do it," Fox warned.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Wolf snarled. His purple eye looked more insulted than angry about the blaster that faced it. "You have thirty thousand reasons to pull the trigger. If you had the balls to fire, you'd have fired already. Throw it away, and let's settle this like gentlemen."

"I'm not here to fight you," Fox promised.

"Then why the hell are you here?" Wolf demanded. "My team has left me and Sargasso is in ruins. You saw to that, made sure I was all alone, and now you've traced me all the way beyond the edges of known space. Explain yourself."

Fox took a deep breath.

"Alright," he said. Fox swallowed nervously. Wolf's remaining purple eye glared at him beneath a furrowed eyebrow, only an arm's length away from Fox's face. One wrong move or brief slip of attention, and it was game over; the heavier, taller wolf would be on him and no gun in the world could save him. Wolf's bared physique, just from the obvious musculature beneath his gray fur, would be more than a match for Fox. He hadn't prepared for Wolf being quite this imposing. "I have a story to tell. And a proposition to make. Some things I needed to say in person."

"Throw the gun aside," Wolf ordered. Fox hesitated, and Wolf gave a low growl.

Wolf loomed over him, his breaths loud and shallow, bits of growl slipping out on occasion. Fox guessed that his rival was four inches taller and at least twenty pounds heavier. He really didn't like his odds if he tossed away the blaster and Wolf decided not to let him talk.

 _If he's going to kill me, he wants us both to be in a cockpit._

With slow, predictable movements, Wolf pushed the blaster's barrel away from himself, uncurled Fox's fingers around it, and tossed it away.

The blaster clattered to the floor. Fox shifted his weight uneasily as Wolf walked up to the gun, stepped one foot onto it, and grinned at Fox with a menace that was uncannily reminiscent of what Fox always felt when his Wolfen showed up to a battlefield.

"Y'know. For a minute, I thought I'd made a terrible mistake not getting my own blaster when I knew you were here," Wolf chuckled.

"If you knew I was here before I got to your room, couldn't you have at least put on some clothes?"

"You raise a good point. We should get out of my room. But I'm not getting dressed," Wolf stated. He spread his arms, gesturing down at his body. "It's the middle of the night, and this is my _home_ anyway. What do you wear when you're home?"

Fox rolled his eyes, and Wolf motioned for Fox to follow him. Fox's eyes widened at the sight of Wolf's tail hanging through a dangerously wide gap in the back of his underwear. At least Wolf wasn't too hard on the eyes, but it was as if he had no shame… or maybe he just wanted Fox to feel uncomfortable?

Hell if Fox knew.

Wolf led him to what seemed to be the mess hall, and sat on one side of the dining table. He extended his arm toward the chair immediately opposite him. Fox stood until Wolf began to snarl, at which point he took the hint and sat as well.

"So how's business been?" Fox asked.

"You know full well," Wolf spat. Fox felt his heart drop into his stomach, because he definitely did know. "What was the big idea, anyway? Had your little politician friends forgive Leon and Panther just so I'd be all on my lonesome when you came? Thought you could demoralize me by taking my team away?"

"So it's true," Fox said. "They're gone."

Wolf nodded.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out," Wolf said. "Panther and Leon were on the wrong side of the law and needed money, and I ran Sargasso in its heyday. Now that the senate cleared their names, what incentive does either one really have to stick with me? Loyalty? From their ilk? Pah."

Fox sighed. This was going to be tricky. He imagined Wolf's reaction.

 _I don't need your charity, pup._

"I tried to clear your name," Fox said. "Not theirs."

"Bullshit," Wolf said. Somehow, Wolf's outright disbelief hurt a little more than the proud dismissal Fox had expected. "You're Fox McCloud, savior of the Lylat Wars, destroyer of the Aparoids. If you wanted anything from Corneria, they'd have given it to you. What's your real game?"

"I came by it honestly. You saved my life. Twice. You're every bit the hero I am for your role in the Aparoid invasion. I _should_ be able to get you pardoned. No question about it in my mind," Fox said. He struggled to meet Wolf's gaze, and ended up just looking at the floor as he rattled off the biggest failure of his past few weeks. "General Pepper usually took good care of Team Star Fox. But he's still in the hospital, and it's not looking good. I brought your case to the senate, and you know what they said?"

"Something about bringing my head in on a platter and collecting the thirty grand," Wolf guessed. "And then their great Fox McCloud can add one more heroic line to his resume."

Fox rolled his eyes, hoping that was a joke. Scarily enough, Wolf hadn't been _too_ far from the undertones Fox had picked up.

"They said you were the face of Andross's army and the face of everything that threatened Corneria," Fox said. "They-"

"I never threatened Corneria," Wolf spat. "That was Andross's game. I threatened _you_. I'd have sided with Corneria if you'd decided to work for Andross."

There was no hate in his eyes or in his voice as he said it, which puzzled Fox. He said it as though Fox had messed up a simple elementary school math problem, and the real answer was one obvious correction away. Wolf's words sounded like the most natural thing he could say, and yet in spite of what they meant, there was no hint of hostility besides Wolf's usual habit of keeping sentences dry and harsh.

"Let me talk," Fox said.

Wolf crossed his arms.

"Fine. Be thorough."

Fox took a deep breath and eyed Wolf down. He soon wished he hadn't; Wolf, in this moment, was unreadable, probably on purpose. It took some reminding to convince himself that he, Fox McCloud, had consistently beaten Wolf in dogfights, and that his hard-won victories had earned him the older canid's lasting rivalry and a good deal of respect.

"The senate made you a villain to enhance their propaganda," Fox said. "And it worked a little too well. Any senator who forgave you would be labeled soft on crime, even if I spoke out about the debt Corneria owes you. They could pardon two nameless Star Wolf lackeys, but _you_? No way in hell. They gave Panther and Leon amnesty, and thought that would appease me."

He waited for Wolf to speak, but Wolf stayed silent, stone-faced, betraying nothing to Fox. He nearly chuckled; intimidating as Wolf's silence was, it was probably easier this way.

"That defeated the whole purpose, though. I didn't care about those two. _You_ were the one I wanted pardoned. And not just because you saved my life a few times." Fox squeezed the hand that rested on his leg until his claws started to irritate his skin. He swallowed, trying not to show his nerves, and tipped his hand. "There's a situation. Star Fox isn't really a team anymore."

There. He'd said it. And Wolf, stoic as he tried to be, betrayed a hint of weakness-a momentary lapse in his cool where his ears pointed straight up and his eyebrows rose.

 _So he didn't know yet. Good news._

"Peppy semi-retired. Took over for General Pepper, as you probably know. Slippy got married."

Wolf broke his silence earlier than he'd probably expected to.

"You're joking. To a _girl_?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit."

Fox turned up his palms and shrugged.

"I haven't told you a lie yet," he said. Wolf sat back in his chair and didn't protest further, so Fox felt free to continue. "But yeah. Slippy comes back for individual jobs if we give him enough notice, but he's been busier and harder to get in contact with. I haven't seen him in a month."

Silence from Wolf. Fox held his breath again along with one more thing he didn't want to say, but this one would be easier. He'd accepted it already.

"Krystal and... I had a messy breakup. She's not part of Team Star Fox anymore. We don't talk." Wolf blew out a long breath. "But there are bigger things than my personal issues, and one of them is the team, or lack of a team. Falco and I are all that's left of the Star Fox, and two pilots really won't be enough. We'd like to recruit until we have four, but we desperately need a third. That's why I'm here."

Still nothing.

"That's all," Fox said.

Wolf shrugged.

"Concise. I'll give credit where credit's due," he commended. "As for what you're offering, I'll consider it. I have three conditions."

Fox blinked a few times quickly, unable to think of a more appropriate response.

"Conditions?"

"For joining you. Or considering it."

Fox blinked a few times in rapid succession.

"You're not going to twist my arm on this first?" Fox asked, incredulous. He'd expected a major struggle, accusations, yelling, and a fight. He'd half expected to take a few bruises and be completely at Wolf's mercy by the time he gave the exhaustive speech he'd prepared. And even from there, he'd expected to have to bargain. Wolf never liked to make things easy for his nemesis. "Or grill me? Or accuse me of treachery? I expected you to be a lot more skeptical."

"One." As if Fox hadn't spoken, Wolf raised his index finger. "I _do_ want that damn bounty removed. Not sure how many rumors you heard while you were tracking me down, but that's why I'm out here." Wolf's face twitched subtly, and he put another finger up. "Two. If I join you, we compete. I'll accept simulators nowadays, since they're not total shit, but we face off when decisions need to be made. I'll show you who's the best, and put that damn bird in his place. And when I beat you consistently, I call the shots for whatever the hell we call the team, which is _not_ gonna be Star Fox. Got it?"

Fox nodded. Discarding the old name was a blow to his pride, but he couldn't really expect Wolf to throw away his own Star Wolf moniker and not expect Fox to meet him halfway. He tried not to cringe.

As for competing, he'd beaten Wolf consistently in the past. It was a lot closer of a match at Sargasso than it had been at Fichina or Venom, but Fox was confident that Wolf wouldn't prove the superior pilot. And even if he did… well, they'd talk if Wolf tried to do anything too crazy.

"Reasonable." Surprisingly reasonable for a guy who joined Andross in the Lylat Wars. Fox wondered where the trap would come in, but that was future Fox's problem. "What's the third?"

Wolf curled his fingers and put his hand down, shaking his head as though Fox had guessed the punch line to a joke.

"An understanding," Wolf replied. "Why you dumped your dream girl, why I made the shitty decisions that got me on the wrong side of the law, and a few more things."

That last part caught Fox's attention right away.

"Such as?"

Wolf bit his lower lip, conspicuously silent.

"Don't bite off more than you can chew," Wolf warned. "First thing's first. Got any idea why I came out to this unnamed world out here in the middle of nowhere?"

An idea brought the smug hint of a grin to Fox's face.

"You thought I was after you, so you ran off to the fringes of unknown space? Despite all your efforts, I found you anyway. You can run, but you can't hide."

Wolf snorted.

"Careful, or we'll have to finish this conversation in our fighters," Wolf warned. He walked to the painted metal wall and opened a sliding drawer along the kitchen counter. Fox expected him to pull out a blaster and offer an ultimatum to make good on his threat, and his pulse rose, but there was nowhere to take cover in so little time. Wolf's paw left the drawer, holding only a fist-sized black box with several buttons and a single turn dial. "The remoteness is a coincidence. This planet we're orbiting has treasure like you wouldn't believe. I'm out here because this planet has the ruins of a gold-rich, primitive civilization. Their writing was easily translated algorithmically, and I now know where they buried an enormous stash of gold. I'm hell-bent on paying off my bounty and using the leftovers for a few upgrades on this ship. You know-"

"Upgrading this thing? I got in here using one of my dad's old RF fobs," Fox interrupted. "This thing is a dinosaur. Trust me. You'd save a lot of money by getting a new one."

"Fuck that," Wolf scoffed. "This is home."

It dawned on Fox that this was probably his time to listen, and Wolf's time to talk. The gray canid sauntered up to Fox and handed him the black box, which Fox observed up close, before sitting back down. It was lighter than he thought, and he had no clue what it might be for except that it seemed to have a camera.

"It's a translator. Top of the line. Deciphered the hieroglyphs that the extinct race used," Wolf explained. "There's a mountain of gold and an archive of technology in a temple. I've got us in geosynchronous orbit above that very same structure. The tech is nothing impressive, if the kinetic bullet weapons on the temple exterior are any indicator, but the gold sounds like just what I need."

"You're raid-"

"Tomb raiding. Yeah. Plundering the tomb of an entire civilization that couldn't survive this hellhole," Wolf said. "It's a shitty job to do alone, but I was planning on it. Yeah, I know. You can look at me funny. What do we have to fear from bulleted weapons, right? Modern shields laugh at those things." Wolf smirked. "Follow me."

"You're really not going to put some clothes on?" Fox asked, a little irritated at his rival's lack of modesty.

"This is home," Wolf insisted.

The lupine turned a few corners, reaching one of the few rooms Fox had yet to see, and pressed a few buttons on a keyboard beneath the large screen that took up much of the far side's wall.

"I've opened the folder containing info about the surface of this planet," Wolf said. "There are fungi that you'd never believe existed. Some as tall as trees. Some not too different from moss. But the worst is horrifying, even to me. Symbiotes. Every creature I've seen on the surface is coated in a fungal skin. I don't want to see any more of the surface than I have to, or…"

A picture of a creature resembling a feral hare showed up on the screen. Beneath a thin layer of fur, however, there was a pasty pink substance that resembled tofu. Fox and Wolf shuddered in unison at the sight of it.

"Pretty terrifying, and not just because they'll bludgeon you straight to hell. I don't want to spend any more time on the ground than I have to. I don't think we're biologically compatible with the parasitic fungi, but just imagine it, pup," Wolf said with a good deal of reverence. "One little slip. One little encounter. It seeps into your fur and grows into a squishy exoskeleton, and different fungi seem to have different cognitive effects on their hosts. Think the Aparoids were bad?"

Suddenly, Fox wasn't sure he wanted to be part of this. But if Wolf was committed to recovering that treasure, then odds were good that he knew how not to fall victim. Either that, or he was as desperate to fetch the treasure as Fox was to recruit him.

"See the rest for yourself," Wolf said, heading from the terminal toward the door. He turned his back to Fox and again, he opened a cupboard casually. Fox thought nothing of it until he caught a glimpse of what was inside. This time, he was quick enough, and had his hands on the blaster before Wolf could bring it toward him. Blaster in hand, grim resignation on his face, Wolf released his grip. "But before you do any of that, I need to know."

The gun's barrel hadn't been pointed toward Fox, but rather, toward Wolf. Only an arm's length away, Fox instinctively put his trigger finger where it belonged.

It was set to kill, not stun. Fox was one short click away from vaporizing a few of Wolf's vital organs. Had he really just made such a grave mistake?

"Your father," Wolf said. He stood right where he'd been, an arm's length from Fox, so close that the vulpine could smell the standard-issue space food on his breath. "I was there when he died. That makes you angry, right?"

 _No shit, it does._

Fox anticipated a trap, but it seemed downright impossible for Wolf to pull anything. There were no turrets in this room, and Wolf's antiquated quasi-residential ship probably wasn't outfitted with that kind of protection system in _any_ of its rooms anyway.

"Is this a confession?" Fox asked, snarling.

"More of a litmus test."

"Risky game," Fox warned. "You know, if you had a death wish, you could've just cleared up a few details back on Venom."

Wolf shrugged.

"I take risks, or we probably never would've met. Right now, I'm offering you a choice. Check the temple exterior and you'll see why I'll be glad for your help tomorrow, clearing off the defense turrets. Follow through, and I just might form a team with you and your annoying bird. But if you're going to work with me out here, it's better to get this out of the way now," Wolf said. "I knew in advance that Pigma was going to betray your father. I fully intended to shoot James McCloud down and hand him over to Andross, dead or alive. I was on Venom when he died."

The temptation to pull the trigger was strong, but Fox had his reservations. He thought about Falco, and how crushed the bird would be if they couldn't find a third pilot, ran out of money, and had to cancel the construction of a new Great Fox.

Nothing like that could stop him. He'd hardened himself over the course of two wars to the point that ending one more life, even in cold-blooded murder at the expense of his best friend and longtime co-pilot, wouldn't stop him from sleeping at night.

"We have a rivalry forged from our experiences together," Wolf said. "But I have history from way before then. I need to know _now_ that you can work with that. Take this opportunity to make me pay for my role in your father's death. Either shoot, or swear on your family name that you won't turn on me over what's in our past."

Gut instinct made Fox toss the gun aside. A few months ago, it probably would've made Fox shoot his old nemesis and finally enjoy the closure he'd craved for the better part of a decade. But a memory had been etched into the deepest part of his mind-one of falling off of a rooftop and finding himself unexpectedly saved from certain death.

 _I owe you my life on that one, Wolf. Thanks._

Fox took a deep breath as the gun clunked on the floor by his feet. It wasn't an easy choice, but for Fox, there was no alternative.

"I swear it," Fox pledged. He cringed at the words as they came out of his mouth. Wolf's unwelcome reminder brought back the sensation of being so absorbed in his vengeance that Andross never really stood a chance, and it colored the tone of his next words. "But don't you _dare_ bring my father up again, or there's hell to pay. I might not shoot you, but you'll wish I had. Got it?"

While Fox tried to cow him, Wolf only stepped closer. Their noses nearly touched. Fox fought off the urge to strike him, wondering if Wolf felt the same animosity in the air, and was just doing a better job controlling himself.

"Bite me," Wolf finally said. "I'm no stranger to paying hell, or I wouldn't be out here in the first place. This room and all its files are yours to search. When you finish up in here, choose any room with a bed to be yours."

"Great. Yours looks nice," Fox said, smirking.

Wolf shrugged.

"You can if you're brave. I'm not relocating, though," he said. Fox immediately regretted his words. "Wouldn't be the first time tonight that you intruded on my turf. But whatever you do, make sure to sleep. Tomorrow, you fly your Arwing and I fly my Wolfen. We're clearing the hostilities so that we can walk in without being shot. Check through the images and 3D models so that you know what we're up against."

Wolf stepped around Fox and headed out the door.

"Where do you think you're off to?" Fox asked, stepping in front of him.

"Back to my room, and back to sleep," Wolf replied. "Dawn on the surface is in six hours. It's not too long after dawn that dangerous things start waking up, and some of them fly. Be ready."

He nudged Fox on his way out the door, and as soon as he was gone, Fox felt the tension release in his shoulders.

He'd done it, and it had been easier than he'd thought. Wolf had actually accepted his help, and that was one step closer to bringing him on board than he'd expected to get on the first day.

A nagging suspicion ate at the back of Fox's mind as he felt the onset of an adrenalin crash. What if, the moment Fox got in his Arwing again, Wolf decided it was time for one final dogfight out in the middle of nowhere? Could Fox really trust him to resist the temptation to prove superior now, when their rivalry and an old ship that Wolf insistently called home were all that the older canid had left?

Fox examined the files and realized just how dense the temple's defenses were. If it were anyone but Wolf, he'd have called it a suicide mission, and even with Wolf's prowess, he didn't like the lupine's odds of shooting out _every single turret_ on the structure's surface without sustaining major damage. Maybe it'd be a stretch to say that Wolf needed Fox's help, but it'd be complete folly for him to give up the assistance just to settle their mutual grudge.

As for the distant future, when tensions got high and stress threatened to overwhelm them, Fox could hopefully figure something out. Perhaps they'd have a serious life-or-death dogfight at some point, but Wolf had seemed so certain that Fox wouldn't shoot him when given the chance. Perhaps the respect was mutual? Or maybe Wolf just knew in his heart that Fox would eat right out of the palm of his hand.

Fox couldn't decide, but in light of how badly Star Fox needed another capable pilot, he was able to halfheartedly convince himself that he didn't care. He tried to distract himself by studying the layout of the temple, but as he powered the screen off and chose his room from the few that had beds, he couldn't help that part of him regretted what he'd committed to.

"Fox! Now isn't this a surprise!"

The sarcasm in Falco's voice was as thick as ever. Fox missed him already.

"I did what I was supposed to," Fox said.

"Wow! That quick?" Fox noticed that Falco was almost yelling into the mic, competing with the constant heavy bass of a club. "Guess we're open for business as soon as we pay his bounty off, eh?"

Fox sighed, realizing the error of his words. He closed his tired eyes buried his face into the pillow, tilting his muzzle so that his voice made it to the mic.

"My mistake. I meant, I got further than I expected to for the first night," he said, yawning. "It's late. I can't sleep. But I'm here on Wolf's ship, and I got him to bargain with me. He's willing to accept my help out here and consider our offer. Good news is that we might not have to worry about that bounty issue at all. The bad news is that this planet is a giant fungus-coated deathtrap. It has gold, though, and lots of it. Wolf says if I work with him and we reach it, he'll join us."

"Pfft!" The bird gave a hearty laugh. "Sounds like he played you! Shoulda brought me along to keep you from getting screwed over by your own bad bargaining. You really think he won't just take the money and run?"

 _I could've shot him. Thirty grand and a house-ship would've been all mine if I'd pulled that trigger._

"I trust him," Fox said, mostly just to assuage Falco. From a certain point of view, it was true; all the money in the world wouldn't stop Wolf from flying, and Fox could count on that. "At least on keeping to his word."

 _It's what he hasn't mentioned that's made me worry. When will he challenge me? We always fight when we meet. When do we fight?_

"There's a sucker born every minute," Falco scoffed. "But I'll let you work your magic, Wolf-whisperer."

"Sounds like you're working some magic of your own," Fox said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm drowning in pussy. That's a better story to tell after the night's over and it's fully written," the bird replied. He chuckled a bit, barely audible over the booming speakers. "Hey, I gotta know. What's his ship like?"

"Old. You saw it. He insists that it's his home," Fox replied. "Furnished pretty well. Comfortable beds that I'm not used to sleeping on yet. Full kitchen with the standard space-food slop, plenty of free weights in a workout facility. Not the cleanest place I've ever seen, but it's orderly."

"Sleeping with one eye open?"

"I told you. If he's going to try to kill me, it's going to be in the sky."

"And when's he plan on having you in an Arwing?"

Fox checked the clock at his bedstand. It was already well past midnight.

"Three and a half hours from now," Fox replied.

The silence was palpable.

"Y'know. If you _beg_ , I might be convinced to come back and save your ass one more time," Falco said.

The bird's voice was always hard to read, but Fox thought he could detect a bit of… pleading? He had half a mind to play the game and beg just like Falco suggested, but on the off chance that he was reading Falco right, that would put Wolf and Falco in close quarters before Wolf was officially on board with the new team. That situation could be nothing but trouble.

"I think this is something I have to do alone," Fox said. Falco and Wolf were two guys who didn't know how to shrug off trash talk. There was no way having Falco around was going to sway Wolf's mind in a positive way, even if Falco had fully agreed to accept Wolf as a teammate. "But I should be fine either way, right? I haven't lost to him yet or killed him in action thus far. If he has to challenge me, let him try."

Fox knew he didn't mean that. Wolf was a whole different level of trouble than anyone Fox had faced in simulators. During the Lylat Wars, Fox had been too preoccupied with Andross to notice that he was performing piloting miracles, so that when Star Wolf came to stop him, he hardly spared a thought toward how worthy of adversaries they had been. But back at Sargasso, when Wolf had called a ceasefire after some serious close calls on both sides, Fox recognized it in full.

It had felt like the end of a root canal, where everything was still sore, but at least it was over. He'd spent the whole battle wondering what trick Wolf would pull next to splash a little more damage onto his shields. And as much as Fox had effective tricks, Wolf had _tons_ of tricks that Fox had never seen; the menace of them left Fox exhausted by the end of their bout.

"If you were anyone else, I wouldn't be willing to take that risk," Falco sighed.

"I'll be fine." Fox really wasn't so sure. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"What does it _sound_ like I'm doing, genius? Getting laid tonight," Falco said. "Got two girls down for it and planning to take both home tonight. Matter of fact, I'm right about to introduce them to each other."

Fox shook his head. One thing he never understood was how Falco felt so comfortable with the party life. They'd bar-hopped a bit together after the Lylat Wars, but Fox had quickly realized that he couldn't keep up-couldn't give himself to the music and the drink and the girls for just one night, and then expect to do it again with a completely different set a night later.

"Getting your fix," Fox said. "Guess I shouldn't distract you."

"All good. Keep me posted on the adventures of kit and pup, would you?"

"Will do."

Falco hung up first, as Fox expected.

Fox sat in his bed, wishing there were an extra body of warmth there. Someone that breathed, and could be held. He envied Falco for finding company so easily; Falco could make do with Fox when they were alone in space, but he could always just find someone else to keep him company when they were on land, and he was happy that way. Fox craved the body contact that he'd become used to, though he knew it wasn't going to happen. Crawling into Wolf's bed and asking to spoon sounded like a good suicide mission, and was in the running for the worst idea ever to cross his mind for more reasons than he could list.

He wondered how much of the feeling that kept him awake was loneliness, and how much of it was genuine affection toward Falco. Thinking about it, he had to admit that part of it came from still being on the rebound from his breakup with Krystal; not much else could make him legitimately reflect on romantic feelings toward someone like Falco, who could so easily turn his feelings elsewhere.

Fox wondered if he'd done the right thing, wondered if Krystal was going to be okay after all, wondered if he'd started down a dangerous road with Falco that might someday bite him in the ass and leave him with a broken heart.

 _It's too late for this kind of thing. I have to be in my Arwing in three hours._

Fox closed his eyes, and this time, they stayed shut until the alarm rang.


	2. Taste Of Things To Come

AN:

I haven't actually finished the third chapter as of the posting of this second chapter. It's giving me a lot of difficulty, though I more or less know what I'm going to do. It could be another week or two before the next part goes up. I consider what I'm trying to do with this fic to be… tricky. And I don't want to screw it up, because I'm already about 18k words in with a lot of time and polishing (believe it or not) thrown in. Reviews and critique are welcome, especially on this next part, and I'm very willing to share my rough drafts if anyone is willing to help with proofreading and editing. Contact me via PM or Telegram (listed on my profile bio) if you think you could help, and I'll be grateful.

Speaking of which, thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Chapter 2

Wolf had hardly said a word all morning as they shoveled bland, nonperishable space-travel breakfast into their mouths at the table. He informed Fox that they were set to fly as soon as breakfast was done, and once Fox confirmed that much, the older canid sat in contemplative silence, sipping on a cup of coffee and taking slow bites of his steaming so-called food, his good eye closed and the other eye powered off for most of the time they sat.

Fox finished his breakfast first, and from there, he waited. Once Wolf had finished eating, both pilots stood up. Fox followed Wolf to the hangar, and Wolf retrieved something from his cockpit.

"Got yours?" he said.

It was Wolf's comm device. Fox nodded, and Wolf hopped right back into his cockpit, with Fox following suit. Fox pressed the fob he'd used to board in the first place, and shot Wolf a cheeky grin as the hangar door began to swing open, which earned him an eye roll.

They descended through the planet's atmosphere and drew closer to the surface, with Wolf leading the way. Fox waited for a sudden move, an announcement of his betrayal, or any other precursor to a dogfight, but Wolf, though still somewhat sparse with his words, was surprisingly cordial. The only significant development was the appearance of Wolf's rough map of the planet on Fox's heads-up display.

"Gravity's about what you're used to in Corneria," Wolf said. "A little bit harsher, but it shouldn't make a big difference to your ship." They descended a bit more, and Fox heard Wolf chuckle over the comm channel. "I wish I could see your face when the ground comes into view."

Fox quickly figured out why. He'd seen Wolf's pictures, but there was something to be said for actually witnessing sixty-foot-tall mushrooms growing alongside the trees, with vines interweaving between all manner of plants. There had to be _hundreds_ of different colors and shapes of them, and that was just from the view near to the temple, which Wolf didn't dare to approach just yet.

"Lucky for us, the building itself is sort of in a clearing. Get ready to play the angles. There are two of us, so that's twice the shield punishment we can take without lasting damage. Remember, the turrets are dense on the rooftop, so don't fly directly over the building no matter what," Wolf said.

"I'll take one side and you take the other?" Fox suggested. "Charge in together and split apart after we've fired?"

"You read my mind," Wolf replied, as if Fox's course of action _wasn't_ the only obvious thing to do. "I guess I'll let you choose which corner we start in."

The temple was a huge one-story stone building with a great, thick stone entrance. The ground along the base of it seemed to obscure a line of large hieroglyphs, suggesting that there might be a basement. Fox really hoped that wasn't the case; the great complex seemed large enough for a foot mission _without_ that extra ground to cover.

Their aerial maneuvering was easy to coordinate, because it was obvious what they had to do. They'd dive in just to the point that a few of the hundreds of turrets were within firing range. They'd fire their own lasers sparingly, take a few out without damaging the temple too much, and then they'd pull back. Wolf took the right and Fox took the left, dividing the shots that began to concentrate on them as they drew closer.

A few shots from the turrets _did_ hit Fox's shields each time, but it was like Wolf said. The antiquated projectiles weren't going to do too much to an Arwing… and judging by Wolf's shield bar, they did even less to a Wolfen. Or maybe Wolf was just giving this a little more effort than Fox, treating it as a chance to upstage his longtime adversary. His aim, at least, did seem presently to be slightly better than Fox's.

"Any idea why someone would put so many of these things on a rooftop for an old place like this?" Fox asked.

"Seen the wildlife yet?" Wolf replied. "That stone's not going to do shit to stop it over the course of a few centuries. My understanding is that a whole culture is preserved in that place. Whoever built it wanted to be damn sure it didn't get sacked."

Fox thought back to the hideous, fungus-covered creatures he'd seen in Wolf's database. None of them looked like a threat to this kind of place, but he supposed Wolf had seen them up close, and Fox hadn't just yet.

"I'll take your word on it," he said.

The operation went smoothly. Fox's shields were still comfortably above three quarters, and Wolf's had only the smallest sliver gone, when they began to close in on the last corner.

Something showed up on Fox's radar out of the blue. Something huge. Flashbacks from the Lylat Wars caused him to tense up, perform an immediate right turn, and flee the temple. This was the part where another of Andross's bioweapons showed up to take a situation from bad to worse.

Birds. But definitely not birds. They were large, shrieked like hellions, flew tight-knit like a swarm of locusts, and were coated in a pasty substance that Fox assumed to be another symbiotic fungus. They were headed right for the ships at higher speeds than Fox had seen from living organisms before, and showed no signs of changing course.

Fox veered out of their path, but Wolf didn't even seem to notice. He continued cruising around, circling back to meet Fox in the air for another charge. Fox expected a somersault or a quick dive at any moment, but Wolf wasn't even starting to change course with two seconds left.

"Wolf! Land right now!" Fox called. He realized he'd have to call out justification before Wolf would listen to a word he said. "If one of those gets in your-"

To Fox's surprise, Wolf didn't need to hear the rest. He was already just about on the ground by the time Fox had begun his next sentence, even as the turrets chipped away a little over a quarter of his shield.

"It'd better be important," Wolf grumbled. "Not sure what you're going on about here. My radar shows nothing."

Fox did an immediate u-turn and fired up his lasers, frying the bulk of the flock. Birdlike corpses rained from the sky and the flock thinned out. Several landed on the landed Wolfen as dozens of the flying atrocities rained from the sky. Fox u-turned right before he got dangerously close to the remainder of the flock, and when he'd put distance between them and turned back around, the remnant was on its way out of the vicinity.

Fox breathed a sigh of relief. It was over almost as quickly as it had started.

"That could've been bad," Wolf admitted. He sounded a little shaken up, though it wasn't easy to tell from the comm. Perhaps he was having difficulty reconciling the obligation to thank Fox with his enduring refusal ever to do so.

"You… landed." Fox still couldn't believe it. "Even before you saw why?"

Fox cruised from up high, spotting Wolf's ship in a precarious position right beneath the firing zone of the remaining turrets.

"You said land," Wolf replied. "If I'd known what you were talking about, I might have said you're full of shit and done my own thing, but I don't take blind chances." He chuckled. "Think my radar might need a tune-up, though. Been a while since I had a chance to get it checked."

"Yeah… Wolf, you landed in a bad spot. If you try to take off right now, you'll get blasted to hell by a storm of obsolete bullets," Fox warned.

"I noticed," Wolf said. "Hard to find a more embarrassing story than that for the mechanical crew. I think I have to sit the rest of this one out. Hate to say it, but I'm not planning to add one more wreck to my repair bill."

"I'm on it."

The remainder was cake; only a small corner remained, and Fox could remain out of range easily by taking advantage of the slope of the temple's roof. When he'd finished, Wolf fired up his Wolfen and soared out of the corner he'd hidden in.

"Blackened," Wolf said, remarking on the top of the temple. "But intact. The roof hasn't caved in. Consider me impressed with the architects."

Taking a slow victory lap of sorts around the structure, just to be sure that nothing would fire at them, Fox noticed what seemed to be an entrance. It looked more like an indent in the wall in the shape of a door, and it had no handle.

"Any idea how we get in?" Fox asked.

"We'll worry about that one later," Wolf said. "We're not parking our ships on the ground unless there's another emergency."

"Why not?"

"Sinkholes, for one. But mostly, the wildlife."

The answer seemed preposterous. The birds were only a threat to ships while the ships were running, and only because their corpses might clog something. Fox waited for Wolf to indicate that he'd been joking.

"How? What the hell do-"

"Follow me," Wolf said. "Not sure you got the size of these things from the pictures."

So Fox listened, just as Wolf had, without a complaint or a protest. Wolf led him through the jungle-like turf, soaring only about twenty feet above the tops of the plants and fungi that lined the skies.

It was a sea of colors. Some fungi were purple, others were yellow with specks of black, and some were blue. Their placing seemed random, and they passed by in a blur at low altitudes. Fox almost wondered if flying so low amidst the changing colors might give him a seizure.

"There," Wolf said. "Die, fucker!"

Wolf's lasers fired up, abruptly forcing Fox to remember that this _wasn't_ just another mission with Falco; he was supposed to be wary of Wolf rather than sitting back and enjoying the air time.

He'd have been a sitting duck if Wolf had fired up the brakes of his Wolfen and shot Fox as he pulled ahead. After taking the punishment, it'd be a dogfight, with both of them at about half shields, and Fox would be stuck on this strange, inhospitable world if he chose to back out. He could only fight Wolf with all the intensity he could muster, and hope that it didn't kill either of them.

That scenario played out in his head, and Fox slammed on his own brakes, but he wasn't the target after all. Instead, Wolf fired down at a great hulking brute, which was easily the size of one of their ships. It resembled a feral rhinoceros, only its body was square, its legs were awkwardly long and thick, and its horn was cruelly curved like a scythe.

Fox thanked his lucky stars. He wasn't nearly as afraid of that creature as he was of a dogfight with Wolf. Ending an air battle with both of them intact was more than he felt he could handle.

"Dead now," Wolf said of the corpse among charred soil. "And good riddance. But you saw it?"

"Yeah."

Wolf sighed.

"Then you know why your Arwing won't be safe on land. It's shitty, but we're going to have to park my home ship. Either of our fighters would be crushed by one of these things, and I'm not even sure that there isn't worse out here," Wolf said. Fox imagined the crunch of his Arwing beneath that terrible beast. "We'll make it a short walk to the temple and hope for the best while we're not in the sky. We'll worry about finding our way in when we have to."

"Back to home base, then?"

Wolf pulled up as if to answer, and Fox followed him all the way back to the ship.

Dinner was space slop. Again. Just like what he'd had with Falco for almost two consecutive weeks. Not too different from breakfast. It never expired, but it sure as hell got old.

Wolf ate along with Fox, silent as he'd been during breakfast, though he kept his eyes open and fixed them often on Fox. He never said a thing, never seemed unnerved by being caught stealing glances, and usually broke eye contact only to take another bite of his bland food without at all acknowledging Fox.

Fox wasn't enjoying himself. He fished for something to look at, and found that to his left, there was an old picture on the wall of two young wolves. One looked to be in his early teens and had an easy, likable smile on his face, accentuated by cheerful blue eyes. The other was unmistakably Wolf, probably about ten years old. He grinned just as earnestly as the other did, but there was menace in his face. A contentious glint in the child's two purple eyes told Fox that his rival had been trouble for most of his life.

"Well, how sad. I figured you were just going to stare at me forever," Wolf said.

"Don't flatter yourself," Fox replied. "I figured _you_ weren't going to be so quiet. Or boring."

Wolf shrugged.

"And I figured you wouldn't want to hear any more than you had to," Wolf replied. "But if I'm boring you that much, I can entertain you with a history lesson. You know why they call me Lord O'Donnell?"

Fox snorted, amused at the egotistical name that Wolf had gone by over at the pirate hideaway.

"Duh. You ran Sargasso," Fox said.

"That's the usual assumption. I used a different name in earlier years, though. Sargasso called me Boss for a while, before the Lylat Wars," Wolf corrected. "Back when I wasn't so firmly on the wrong side of the law, before I did some shitty things with some shitty motives. And before I inherited a title. The older guy in that picture is my cousin. He was Lord O'Donnell before the _Cornerian_ title, which none of my crimes can legally strip away, fell to me. He was the only family I ever got along with. You might have met him. He served with your buddy Bill in the husky unit."

"What was his name?" Fox asked.

Wolf snorted.

"Doesn't matter what's on his tombstone," Wolf replied.

Shit. This was why Fox was afraid to ask Wolf these personal questions, and a big part of why he didn't _start_ their conversations. Wolf's past was shady, and he'd lived a rough life. Asking about virtually anything could lead to some bitter memories and unsavory answers, and none of that made for a good recruitment incentive.

"I'm sorry," Fox said.

Wolf continued as if Fox hadn't spoken.

"What matters is that the last thing I ever heard from him was how disappointed he was in me. How he once considered me his brother since he never had one, and how my shitty choices changed his mind," Wolf said. He crossed his arms at his chest and shut his eye. "Andross's forces killed him in the skies. You know, after we faced off at Fichina, I thought about changing sides. Thought about talking to my cousin, telling him he was right, asking if he'd put in a good word for me."

Wolf had to be joking.

"And then you went in and battled me again on Venom _after_ you knew what happened to your cousin, huh?" Fox spat. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Wolf hung his head low.

"I've said a little too much. I told you. I made terrible choices," he said. He gave a sigh and opened his mouth in a snarl, glaring at Fox. His voice lowered, but gained intensity, and his eye made half of his face eerily similar of the young, ambitious boy in the picture. "You know, if you weren't you, and your father hadn't been the one and only James McCloud, I would've been Corneria's ace. I would've been the end of Andross, and I wouldn't have needed a mouthy bird, a hick rabbit, or a klutz frog along the way. You ruined me, pup."

Wolf had done what Fox had warned him not to do-mentioned James McCloud. This was dangerous territory, but Fox tried to calm himself. Just to play devil's advocate, he tried to imagine himself coming from Wolf's point of view.

Fox imagined a world where he'd been pushed to choose the wrong side. Something remotely plausible. He imagined that Corneria had chosen Team Star Wolf to turn the tide of the war instead of Team Star Fox, and considered how eager he'd be to prove his team to be the true best. Then he imagined being shot down by Wolf at Fichina, failing at his first job, and how dead inside he'd feel from it.

He couldn't imagine letting that stop him. He might have done similarly to Wolf if that had been the full extent of the situation.

But at the same time, he certainly couldn't imagine being on the opposite side of the war from his remaining family-especially someone who, as Wolf admitted, was actually a pretty good guy. Being the best wasn't worth that.

"Like hell. You ruined yourself," Fox retorted. "You could've been the fourth member of the _original_ team Star Fox if you'd just asked my dad."

Wolf snorted. The fur of his bare chest fluffed out haughtily.

"A wanted petty criminal comes up and asks to join your father's team, and you think he'd just say okay? You think he was some kind of all-redeeming saint, don't you? You think-"

Dagger eyes stopped Wolf mid-sentence. If there hadn't been a table between them, Fox would've tackled Wolf right there and pounded his face in. He was _not_ going to listen to insults toward his father from the son of a bitch who, at the very least, watched James McCloud die.

"I'm sorry," Wolf said. It sounded sincere. "You don't deserve my bitterness. What we did today… I was shaky about doing it alone. You helped me a lot more than I expected. When that flock came in, you warned me right away without time to even think about it. If you were as resentful as I am, the warning wouldn't have come in time. I owe you."

Fox's anger softened, but didn't subside. He could feel how difficult it was for Wolf to let go of his pride, and felt compelled to say something in return.

"And I'm sorry for what happened with your teammates," Fox said. "I put my nose where it didn't belong, and you paid the price."

"Feels shitty," Wolf said.

"Yeah."

"You alright?"

Fox thought about it. Adrenalin was still in his system, and his face still showed the disgust he felt toward his old foe.

"No."

"Me neither. Not the best way to be."

Wolf got up and retreated to his room, leaving his half-finished dinner on its plate. He returned moments later, to Fox's surprise, with a piece of black cloth that he chose to hurl at Fox's face.

"Hey! What gives?" Fox complained, removing the strange black object that covered his eyes. It had a hint of Wolf's scent, but mostly reeked of some terrible… cleaning compound?

Fox noticed tags and a small hole at the rear-smaller than the hole most pants had for a tail.

"It's a swimsuit," Wolf said. "You ever swim?"

Fox chuckled.

"I haven't had lessons or done it as a team sport, but I _can_ swim. Will I need to? Is there water in the temple, or what?"

"Fox," Wolf said. It came to Fox as a surprise that he'd chosen not to call him _pup_. "I want to get to know you better. You've been nice to me where-" Wolf hesitated, swallowing and clearing his throat. "Where others weren't. But we still have our history, and I need to know whether or not that's going to cause problems when we work together. I have to spend more time with you, to figure out whether you're giving me your real face here, or you're just fucking with me to add to your team. Tomorrow, at five AM by the Cornerian clock, I'll be at the pool. I'd like you to meet me there."

"You have a _pool_ on your ship?"

Wolf's reply was emphatic.

"A lap swimming pool. This is _home_."

He'd heard that enough times to warrant asking.

"What's the deal with you and this ship?" Fox asked. "Was this all Sargasso could spare for you to run around in? How has this ancient thing not fallen apart yet?"

"It has," Wolf replied. "I've had it repaired and upgraded. This was my father's ship. I inherited it shortly after the Lylat Wars. Of course, Corneria wasn't going to give jack shit to their poster villain, so I had to fucking steal it to keep my cousin's wife from selling it off for scrap."

Fox was puzzled. Taking the mementos was one thing, but stealing the whole ship sounded like it couldn't be worth the risk.

"Why does it-"

"Why does it matter?" Wolf asked. He'd guessed correctly. "O'Donnell is an old name. And since my cousin had a daughter rather than a son, it dies with me."

Kind of like the name McCloud, except that Wolf apparently had some actual blue-blooded nobility behind him. Thinking about names, he wondered if maybe he'd made the wrong move in breaking up with Krystal. Maybe some things were more important than flying?

 _Not a chance. What good is the McCloud name when its bearer sits on the ground? I'll live in the air and die in the air._

"I understand," Fox said, although to an extent, he really didn't.

Wolf nodded. He took another bite, finishing his dinner, and set the plate on the cleaning counter, where it was taken for cleaning by a robotic arm.

"I'll be in my room if you need me," he said. "Otherwise, tomorrow. Five in the morning."

"And flying?" Fox asked.

"Not tomorrow. While we flew today, I left a few probes by the temple door," Wolf said. "We need a full Cornerian day before I can guess at the wildlife patterns. We want to optimize our timing and land for as little time as possible. Tomorrow is a waiting game."

Fox nodded, and Wolf said nothing more. The gray-furred canid shut the door to his room behind him, and Fox looked at the competitive-style square trunks in his hand, wondering what he'd gotten himself into by being too slow to turn down an offer.

"Well, if it isn't everyone's favorite fleabag," Falco greeted. "Talk to me."

"He's gotten better," Fox said.

"Better, huh?" Falco said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Fox recalled diving down, firing his lasers and taking bullets in a trade with the turrets. Wolf had dived down ahead of him, pulled up just a little faster, placed his lasers just a little better, demonstrated the kind of precision that Fox only zoned into when hundreds of lives were at stake. His shields had barely even been dented by the time the swarm came and threw a monkey wrench into their whole operation.

"As a pilot. Either he's improved in a big way, or I got lucky to beat him twice," Fox replied. "We flew today. I held my own, but he almost made me look bad. Wasn't easy, but he made it look like he could've done the whole thing without me. I'd have considered it a suicide mission for myself alone. I almost laughed when he said he was planning on it before I showed up. After seeing him today, I shouldn't have been laughing."

"So what you're saying is that your longtime rival is a good pilot," Falco said. "Gee. It's too bad we didn't know. We could've asked him to join our team."

Fox rolled his eyes. He should've known better than to expect Falco to take matters seriously.

"I think I'm making progress on that," Fox said. "This whole world is a slice out of hell, so he got ambushed when his radar didn't catch a big swarm of… vicious birds with fungal symbiotes? Jeez. Never thought I'd say those words."

"So you got a heroic rescue in?"

"Yeah. It was weird, though, with it being Wolf and all. I told him I'd help, and he just let me," Fox said. "Didn't talk about his pride being damaged. Didn't try to take care of things himself. Maybe we've established some trust and respect for each other. I'm kind of honored."

Falco gave a chuckle.

"So a crook letting you save his hide counts as an honor nowadays?"

"Calling him a crook might be a little strong. He's done some bad things, but a lot of it was circumstance," Fox said. "He's told me some things from his past. I'm not the only one who lost someone important in the Lylat Wars."

"Yeah? And a lot of the Lylat Wars was his own damn fault," Falco scoffed. "Has he at least given you an apology yet?"

Sort of. Whatever a swimming invite counts as. Fox wondered how he'd explain that one to Falco.

"I don't want to talk about that," Fox said.

It wouldn't help him, and he'd rather wait to resolve things with Wolf anyway. Somehow, Fox felt, it'd be easier after a while of working together. Eventually, he'd get brave and bring up the Lylat Wars years again, and maybe Wolf would shed light on things that Fox had never been ready for. Until then, it was better to just stay cool.

There was a moment of silence between the two pilots. Fox realized that, unlike the prior night, Falco wasn't competing over any particular background noise. By Cornerian time, it was nine at night.

"You up to anything?" Fox asked.

It took the bird a little longer than usual to reply.

"Got the threesome last night," Falco said. "I was the only one who didn't regret it when we woke up. Made for an awkward morning, but it was one hell of a wild night. I'm so wiped out from it all that I'm taking tonight to sit at home and recover. The morning part, I mean. Never wiped out from sex, unless someday I find a real freak worth keeping around."

Fox snorted, though it still hurt somewhat to hear how quickly Falco actually did it. One night, and Fox had already been replaced. He'd told himself time and time again that there were no strings attached, just like Falco said, but Fox always imagined strings. Then Falco had to remind him right away that anything beyond sex between two desperate pilots was never real.

On the upside, Fox had convinced himself over the months that he was okay with that. The lie was even starting to become true.

"Probably for the best that you rest anyway while you're on land," Fox said, knowing the kind of trouble Falco could find if he had enough time to himself. "And make sure to eat some extra actual food for me. Keep in mind I envy your location a lot more right now after dinner. Any plans for tomorrow?"

"Drink, dance, and get my dick wet."

Predictable. But this was, in a way, what made Falco an ideal teammate. Hedonism and piloting were the bird's whole life, and of the two, piloting was the only thing with any order to it. When he felt lost and needed stability, Falco would always come back to Team Star Fox, and Fox would always welcome him. It had happened a few times before.

"Well, have fun with that," Fox said. "As for me, it turns out Wolf has a pool on his ship. He invited me to join him tomorrow morning for laps. Said he needs to spend more time with me."

Falco made kissing noises into the phone. Fox wished he could slap him.

"Okay, so I could've phrased that a lot better," Fox said. Or perhaps _Wolf_ could've phrased that better, really. Fox was only using recycled words, and somehow now with Falco, they felt a little clumsier than Wolf had made them seem. "But you have to admit he has a point. I mean, we did spend half a decade wanting each other dead. Spending some civil time together is probably not a bad idea."

"Civil time? I bet you're just missing me. Lemme take a guess at how the invite went," Falco said. He lowered his voice to a growl, giving a crude Wolf O'Donnell impression. "Meet me in the pool, and don't bring a suit. If we're going to work together, I'm going to see you naked. Pup."

Fox perked his ears up and heard no sign that Wolf was anywhere near. He lowered his voice anyway.

"Yeah. I'll admit I miss you a lot," Fox said. "Warned you I would. But Wolf isn't on my radar, and he's not my type. Besides, I'd rather not have both my teammates know what I look like naked."

"Yeah, yeah. I'd say I miss you just as bad, but I'm honestly glad to be back in Corneria rather than up in space, where desperate times call for desperate measures," Falco said. It stung. Falco must have picked that up, because his tone became less dismissive. "Uh… no offense meant. I mean, damn it, Fox. I don't mean it like that! I'll just say I'm glad to be home."

"It's alright," Fox lied. "I get it. We probably shouldn't be discussing this stuff. No sense talking about what could've been."

Fox remembered waking up next to the bird and playing the part of big spoon until Falco woke up, realized he was enjoying it just as much as Fox, and shoved him away. Fox tried to push it out of his head; until it happened again, which it wasn't guaranteed to with Wolf around to potentially catch them, it was better not to think about it.

"Or couldn't have been," Falco added.

More hurt.

"Yeah… hey, I really should get to sleep," Fox said. "Wolf wants me to meet him at five in the morning."

"Sheesh," Falco grumbled. "If he's an early riser, he'd better not be loud."

"He's been up earlier than me with pretty good consistency, but I'm pretty sure he's just about silent. I haven't heard him once, except when he's talked to me."

"Better be," Falco scoffed. "But I'll let you go. Night, Fox."

"Night."

They hung up. Fox thought about what they'd said for just a moment. Falco had just gone out of his way to remind Fox that he'd _settled_ for their trysts. He was out in Corneria, playing Casanova and living the war hero's party life like there was no tomorrow. Meanwhile, Fox couldn't deny that he'd developed feelings for Falco, and he'd have to kill them before they became trouble.

He could do it. He'd already killed one relationship over Team Star Fox. This time would be even easier, really; Falco didn't _want_ romance between them like Krystal had.

It wasn't something for tonight, though. He didn't have time to sort through dangerous emotions. Wolf would be up early, and Fox had to match that. His body's sleep schedule was still on Cornerian time, so even though it was only early evening by the planet's time, it was time to sleep.


	3. Easy Influence

AN:

EDIT: I'm adding this to address EVEN MORE things. I write on Google Docs and have tried in the past to put links up so that you guys can comment on specific things in real time instead of posting reviews. I'm probably going to find some sort of workaround if I need to, but it's really frustrating that I can't post links when they'd enhance the storytelling.

More frustrations, though! Google Docs converts from their own format to .odt for me, which is how I post this. Unfortunately, it doesn't get everything, so there are typos. Typos that I've verified WERE NOT MADE BY ME. That frustrates me to no end, so I feel the need to vent about it. I should mention that my grammar, while not immaculate, is honestly _very solid_. Thus, if you see terrible mistakes, please give me the benefit of the doubt? I'd be eternally grateful.

One more thing I'd like to address is that I'm deliberately leaving the outcome of this fic ambiguous. I've gotten a few calls to make this a Fox x Wolf fic, and a few calls to make this a Fox x Falco fic. I won't publicly say how I plan to resolve it, although I will say that Falco does appear in person again by the end of the fic, if not sooner. I hate to say it, but you'll have to wait and see how things unfold, which will probably be two to four more weeks of me agonizing over how to write this silly fic. Sorry!

ORIGINAL AN (with one terrible typo hopefully fixed)

I've been sitting on this for days now. There's just a little too much fanservice for my taste, which is partly because I have major hots for Fox. Nothing too extreme, considering that the story doesn't call for it, but it's definitely there. I feel like this chapter isn't ready, but I only have half a summer to write this whole thing, so I need to move on whether or not this thing is done justice. Expect that there will be seven chapters in total. I should be able to post about one every 7 10 days until I'm done, and then I'll be out of time to write at all. Such is life.

A couple things I want to address, though, at risk of me sounding like a real piece of work. I originally wrote for this fic to only have two calls to Falco. I've been told that putting one at the end of every chapter is a bit repetitive and annoying. I want to make my reasons known. One is that it's practice for me working with Falco, because he's going to be more directly involved at some point. Another is that certain people people, two of whom helped me get this fic off the ground, heard my plan for the rest of the story and suggested being quicker to include Falco in the main plot, considering his later role.

Also, this fic has honestly been extremely draining. I don't think I even know how to let go enough to accept that something I write, even if it's fanfiction, doesn't always have to be the best work I'm capable of producing. I really beat myself up about it sometimes, so thank you all both for reading, and for giving whatever feedback you have. Regardless of what you say, hearing anything at all helps me feel as though I haven't let everyone down.

Finally, I acknowledge that the swimming I'm going through in this chapter isn't necessarily the very greatest swimming. It's simplified somewhat. I get that there are multiple ways to do frontcrawl, and I didn't even get into other strokes.

On that pleasant note, here's chapter 3. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

It turned out that Wolf wasn't kidding; the pool was twenty-five meters long and was wide enough for two to lap swim in comfortably. One end was four feet deep, and the other was seven feet deep. The water was mostly clear, but had a greenish blue tint and a mildly pungent odor that Fox assumed to be chlorine.

Fox was on time, bright and early at five in the morning, but Wolf was already swimming laps, and seemed to have been there for a while already. Wolf tore through the water in an impressive display of strength, making no indication that he'd noticed Fox until he reached Fox's side of the pool and stopped, standing in the shallow end water.

"Morning, pup," he said plainly.

Fox had thought the square trunks that Wolf had given him fit a little too small, with stretchy fabric that reached down to Fox's mid-thigh if he pulled, and gradually worked back up to fit like a smaller pair of boxer briefs.

He hadn't expected Wolf to one-up his swimsuit, but Wolf clearly had no concern for his modesty; he wore a black-with-purple-trim speedo that left little to the imagination on the rare occasion that the water stilled. Somehow, it didn't feel like an immodest choice out here in the pool-completely different than spending the bulk of their time together in nothing but his underwear. Wolf had his game face on.

Somehow, actually knowing how to swim made the suit feel like a natural choice for Wolf. The minimalist suit felt like part of Wolf's current task at hand rather than a garish aesthetic choice, more similar to his cybernetic eye than the underwear he seemingly only kept on out of some well-hidden sense of decency.

"Started without me, huh?" Fox said.

"If you can keep up with me, then I owe you an apology," Wolf replied, shrugging. "Not likely, though. Goggles are on the bench. Hop in."

A purple eye fixed on Fox as he removed his shirt and shorts. He could feel it even with his back turned. Fox put his feet in the chilly water at the pool's edge and returned the stare as he confirmed what he'd assumed.

"You really gonna just sit there until the water warms up?" Wolf said. "Warm isn't happening. I keep it cool."

The longer Fox sat there, the longer an unnerving, predatory stare was fixed on his barely-clothed body. He noticed that beneath Wolf's goggles, there was no trace of the cybernetic eye that Fox had finally started getting used to. He also couldn't see through the tint, though, and that just made everything feel unsettling. The water was pretty cold, but Wolf's silent judgment was less comfortable still.

The frigid water's sting hit him all at once as he slid in. He shut his eyes and cringed, missing the friendlier temperatures of Zoness's beach water.

"I'm guessing you haven't swam much before," Wolf said.

Fox noticed that Wolf's cybernetic eye was missing. Instead, he wore a pair of goggles that was lightly tinted on one eye, and so heavily tinted on the other side that Wolf probably wouldn't have been able to see through it even if his bad eye worked. Fox tried not to wonder what the bad eye looked like beneath the tint.

"Is it that obvious?" Fox asked.

"Nah. Just a guess. Even I make that face when I get in the water early in the morning," Wolf admitted. "But I did figure you wouldn't be very good. What's your swimming background?"

"My parents took me to Zoness for a few vacations when I was younger," Fox replied. "We spent a lot of time in the water for a few weeks." It dawned on him that he had a chance to fish for info, and probably without bringing up too many sour memories. He knew precious little about Wolf, but that had to change, and this question felt safe. "What about you? How much have you swam?"

"Swam competitively all through Academy. Did pretty well. It helps to be tall." Wolf cocked his head downward at Fox, staring down the five-foot-eight vulpine and grinning. "Had to quit swimming altogether when the Lylat Wars broke out. Andross was a shitty boss if I've ever had one. Afterward, I inherited my dad's ship afterward, lost it to a dumb bitch, stole it back, and picked swimming back up."

"You swam in Academy?" Fox replied.

All through his school days, before he'd been forced to drop out and assume command of his father's team, Fox had been so focused on becoming a better pilot that he'd never bothered to see what the place offered for sports. Half an hour of cardio five mornings a week and two days a week of full-body weight training were all he'd felt he needed.

Wolf nodded.

"Good experience, overall. Makes your lungs a lot more efficient, slows your resting pulse better than most workouts. And there were other perks."

Fox felt he'd nearly overextended with questions, and Wolf's cocky face dared him to take the bait he'd laid out. He wasn't sure what Wolf was referring to by _perks_ , but Fox was content to let it go.

"Well, I'm way less experienced, but I'll try to keep up," Fox said.

Wolf shrugged, turned down his lane, and took off.

Fox could certainly _try_ to keep up, but it was a doomed effort. Wolf moved at a slower pace than he had before, when he hadn't been aware that Fox was around, but even at reduced speed, he was faster than Fox could catch. Fox took to swimming underwater, desperate to gain ground, but even when he kicked repeatedly off of the bottom of the pool, Wolf was faster. Through his goggles, he saw Wolf floating at the other end of the pool, waiting for him as he cleared the last quarter of the pool.

"Figured you wouldn't be very good," Wolf chuckled.

"Shut up," Fox grumbled. "I can do better."

"I'm pretty sure you can't," Wolf replied with a wide smirk. "But hell. I'll see if I can change that. Give this a try, pup. Watch for a few seconds, and then do as I do."

Wolf took off again, only several measures slower. He'd slowed by enough that Fox could've kept pace by swimming as he'd done before. The pulls of his arms followed the same motion as before, but the intensity was gone and his legs didn't kick as forcefully.

Fox tried to follow suit. He swung his arm forward, pulled water back, and reached forward with the next one. His legs kicked frantically. He raised his head from the water intermittently to take heavy breaths. Twice, he found he'd gone off course and had to correct his path.

All the while, just a short distance ahead of him, Wolf splashed far less, and consistently tilted his head just far enough out of the water for his maw to take a breath. Fox traveled faster and even nearly reached the end first despite Wolf's headstart, but Wolf wasn't going for speed, and Fox knew it. The taller canid gave a perfect example for Fox to copy, with each arm synced to the opposite side's leg.

"Better," Wolf commended. He held four fingers above the water, his wrist limp, and dropped them so that they submerged in the water. "Like this. Fingers break the surface tension before your palms do. It reduces splashing. Open your palms and pull water with as much surface area as you can. Also, rotate your whole body. Make sure that when one arm goes into the water, the opposite side's leg kicks downward. Tilt your head a bit with every stroke, and tilt extra to take a breath on every third stroke."

The voice was foreign. Fox had heard Wolf bark orders at his team, and he'd heard him try to cow Fox over the comm channels. He'd heard him speak casually, and he'd even heard him sound a bit panicky.

This was different. Wolf was telling something that was already in his head-something he already knew to an extent, just from watching the last lap out of the corner of his eye. It was still difficult to convert that into actual coordination, though.

"I'm not sure I get it," Fox said. "What do you mean, rotate?"

He moved closer to Fox. Without warning, Wolf reached an arm out and placed a finger on Fox's nose. He paused, waiting for Fox to challenge the move, and no reaction came. Fox was intrigued enough by the odd gesture to humor him.

Poker-faced, Wolf dragged his finger straight down along Fox's chin. The tip of his dulled claw reached through the fur to drag against Fox's skin, and continued tracing downward as it reached his neck, first, and then his chest.

Fox's face took on a faint trace of a snarl as Wolf reached lower beneath the water, the older canid's one eye following the line he drew. Wolf didn't seem to be stopping, either, as though he was hell-bent on winning a game of chicken.

The claw continued through Fox's fur and pricked against his navel. Fox flinched visibly and swatted Wolf's arm away before it could get any lower; it didn't seem as though Wolf planned to stop until he reached the suit he'd so graciously loaned him.

"What the hell are-"

Wolf's other arm pinched Fox's mouth shut, quicker and firmer than Fox was prepared for. Before Fox could struggle, Wolf gave his explanation.

"That's the axis you rotate around," Wolf said. The frustration subsided as Wolf's grip loosed in an instant and Fox regained his calm.

The process was starting to make sense. Wolf's touch had been unnecessary and unwelcome, but the method of communication had already become irrelevant. The swimming stroke was becoming clear; Fox was starting to believe that with a little more clarity, he could get on Wolf's level and maybe just beat him at his own sport.

He listened intently.

"Center your rotation around that line. Make your movements repeat in a clean cycle, and balance your horizontal propulsion so you don't fall out of line. Pull yourself forward evenly and you won't swerve. Got it?"

He did. It felt like everything Wolf said had already been in his head since he saw Wolf demonstrate it a few minutes back, and Wolf had just reminded him of something that he already knew. Images of Wolf going through the motions had engraved in his mind, and with a little push, Fox could substitute himself into them and feel as though he'd done it himself.

"Yeah."

"Then try to keep up."

Watching Wolf's stroke, it finally clicked. Fox took off moments after Wolf, determined to beat him this time, or at least keep up.

The one part Fox still wasn't prepared for was the breathing. Air came into his lungs, but splashes of water also made their way, forcing him to hold his breath or cough it up several times. It did nothing to curb his determination.

It turned out to be a doomed effort. Wolf didn't hold back this time, speeding to the end at what seemed to be nearly double Fox's improved pace. By the time Fox reached the end of the pool, he panted heavily and coughed up swallowed water onto the concrete shore, ravaged by his own inability to take in air without water. He thought he should be ashamed of himself, maintaining illusions that he could walk onto the scene and keep pace with a longtime swimmer.

Somehow, though, he didn't _feel_ ashamed, or even defeated. The exhaustion was invigorating.

"Yeah. That's it," Wolf said, grinning as Fox caught his breath. "Slow. And clumsy. But your overall form was just about perfect. Looks like you learn from me as well as I learned from you, even when we're not in a cockpit."

Wolf? Learning from Fox? What was he talking about?

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fox sputtered between breaths.

Wolf thought for a moment.

"Ever hear of mirror neurons?" he asked.

"Yeah," Fox replied between breaths. "Something in your brain that lets you imitate things that you see."

"Pretty much. They're pretty powerful things for a guy like me. You used some tricks on me both times we flew against each other," Wolf replied. "And I learned a lot from every time I saw you fly. Even got some ideas yesterday, when you pretty obviously weren't even trying. I don't think flying is the only thing, though. I can improve by watching you, period. And I think it's mutual."

Wolf looked dead serious, as though he'd caught something game-changing. Fox couldn't help but laugh for just a moment.

"You might be onto something," Fox said. He coughed between laughs, and sprayed a bit more water out at the poolside. "But piloting, Wolf? Does that really need saying? I know we've always been enemies, but I've always known you made me a better pilot. Why do you act like this is news?"

"You think I think it's news?" Wolf said. "You're clueless, aren't you? I bet you don't get why you're even here."

The goggles made it just a little tougher to guess what angle Wolf was taking here.

"In the pool?"

"On my ship, period," Wolf said. "Damn it, pup. Tell me something. You've put me through a lot of hell and handed me two humiliating defeats. It used to be okay, when Panther and Leon were around, but now I'm far and away the biggest mark in all of Lylat, and I don't even have accomplices to band together with. Thanks to you, I'm a fugitive who's all alone in the world. Why haven't I kicked you the fuck off of my ship for making everything worse, one encounter at a time? Can you give me an answer?"

It hit him by surprise, and he was out of breath, but Fox had already gone over this with Falco in great detail. In truth, he'd expected to have this conversation on the very first day. Wolf had every right to be angry, but Fox had a good recruitment pitch at the ready. It'd be easier now, with a little more ammo from the prior afternoon.

"Because I'm here to make up for that," Fox replied. "And so far, I'd dare say I've done a pretty good job. Do you really think you'd have gotten out of yesterday with your Wolfen intact, let alone unscathed, if someone hadn't been around to divert half of the fire?"

"I do," Wolf replied. "I was going to take it slow, and I'm capable even with a broken radar. I'm not delusional, of course. Having you around was good. Didn't have to fly scared. Might say I got away with being sloppy, not doing a more detailed check on my Wolfen before I flew, not taking a more painstaking approach to dismantling the threat at hand. It was nice, and it saved me time, but there's nothing about my current objective that I couldn't accomplish without you. I really did plan on doing this alone. Your presence is convenient, but it sure as hell isn't necessary."

"Not necessary? How exactly do you plan on establishing contact with Cornerian authorities once you have the money to pay off your bounty, huh?" Fox challenged. "You're a wanted-"

Wolf put a palm to his temple.

"Fucking hell, pup. Shut up," he growled. "You've spent this whole time ignoring what I'm trying to say, and now that I'm direct, you're barking up the wrong tree."

"What you're trying to say?"

"I've been screwing with your head," Wolf grumbled. "Except it hasn't worked. Thought it was going to be fun, but maybe I'm not the only one here with a busted radar."

What the hell did he mean by that?

"I didn't know you had fun on your agenda at all," Fox replied. He tried to guess what _busted radar_ Wolf was talking about, but there was too much he'd ignored for the sake of civility. Wolf's dress habits, or lack thereof, with his superior physique? Bringing up James McCloud at the worst possible times? _Constantly_ calling him pup, as though Fox had the kind of ego that a condescending nickname could bruise? It seemed like Wolf spent their interaction trying to belittle his longtime rival. As for whatever was beyond that, Fox couldn't even guess. "This whole expedition is supposed to be all business, right? If not for giving you a fresh start, why should either of us be here? I'm here to help."

"Yeah?" Wolf scoffed. "You really ought to stop with your sales pitch. It wouldn't work anyway. Do you get how shitty it sounds from my point of view? You gave me my first dogfight defeat since Academy, won a high-profile war by killing a monster I could've handled, established me as a villain as though Andross didn't do a good enough job of that on his own, wrecked Sargasso after I spent six years building it up, and then left the Aparoid homeworld without checking to see if I was even alive after we all risked our lives to blow it up"

Fox had a good counterargument to all of those. He'd prepared for this, and he'd start with the last one.

"Peppy was in critical condition and needed to be rushed to-"

"I just told you that's not going to work," Wolf scolded. He didn't yell or even come close to it, but there was hurt in his voice and even in his posture. "I don't care what your excuses are. They don't help your case. The fact is that every time we interact, I end up getting fucked over. I saved your life and you say you're grateful, but you _still_ fuck me over without even trying to. Just look. You wanted to make things up to me, but my bounty is still high and you got my team to ditch me. It's like you're jinxed. I wouldn't be surprised if this time we're spending together gets my home destroyed and ends my remaining influence as leader of Sargasso, as if three assassination attempts in the last two months isn't forbidding enough."

Wolf took heavy breaths, a hand still caressing his forehead. Fox waited for him to go on, not wanting to agitate Wolf any further, but Wolf didn't speak.

He could feel Wolf's pain, or at least his profound frustration with something that Fox still hadn't identified. He'd put Fox at a loss. Wolf had brought up the one point that had never occurred to Fox-consistency. Every single time they'd interacted, it had ended badly for Wolf. Fox had no counter for that, and it made him feel as shitty as he'd felt back way back when Falco had reminded him that he really had made the best choices… somehow. Fox couldn't remember what the bird had said anymore.

"If you really want, I'll leave," Fox replied.

It hurt to say, because with Wolf out of the picture, Star Fox was as good as over. They could find another pilot or two, sure, but they wouldn't find anyone comparable to Fox or Falco. Their stellar reputation would sink, young pilots' Arwings would go down in flames, and Fox and Falco would end up jaded by their early thirties, wondering if it was really worth sacrificing all those foolish, ambitious kids just to keep their own flying lifestyle alive. They'd both seen it play out in their heads and lost sleep over it countless times, or Falco never would've agreed to accept Wolf at all.

"Pup. If I really wanted, you'd be back in Corneria right now," Wolf seethed, turning partly to Fox so that his good eye made contact. "Would've been the smart thing to do. We have a bad history and you have thirty thousand incentives to put a blaster to my head and pull the trigger. You can't leave, though. At this point, I wouldn't let you. Do you really not know why?"

Honesty felt like the best policy. Another stab at it would probably just make things worse.

"No."

Wolf sighed.

"Fuck, then. This didn't go how I planned," he cursed, speaking with nonchalance that didn't quite cover his exasperation. "I'm going to swim a few more laps and cut out early. Talk to me when I've had a while to get my head on straight."

Wolf was about to take off, but Fox wasn't done just yet. He hadn't considered before that he might just have habits that harmed Wolf, and that he wasn't even aware of them. Since Wolf seemed to believe that, and since it hurt him personally, he had to address it.

"Do you really think I'm bad for you?" Fox asked. He caught Wolf just as he was beginning to turn away, prompting the wet lupine to stop in place. "I see where you're coming from, and you're right about the facts. Nothing but bad has ever happened to you when we've met. But do you really think it's set in stone? Are we rivals forever… and never friends?"

Wolf clearly heard him, but he turned away fully and was gone in the water. When he returned to Fox's side of the pool, he flipped under the water, kicked off against the end of the pool and was gone without even coming up to take a rest.

Fox realized his question wasn't going to be answered. Maybe it didn't need to. Wolf wasn't the kind of guy who even looked for friends.

Despite maintaining a pace far beyond what Fox could reach, Wolf wasn't going to tire out and surface, so there was no point waiting for him. The best Fox could do with his time was try in vain to match Wolf's pace, or at least practice what he'd been taught. Wolf had seemed to want him to learn to swim, at least.

Fortunately, the swim lesson had clicked well. Fox performed the stroke, and it became more comfortable with each lap he took. He was nowhere near as quick in the water as Wolf, and he didn't expect to get that good, but he could reconcile his own movement with that of Wolf cutting through the water beside him, and that was progress.

At some point, Wolf got out of the pool, and Fox was too immersed in his activity to notice. By the time Fox got into the locker room, rinsed the pool water out of his fur, and stepped into the pool dryer, there wasn't a trace to be found of his old rival until his ears picked up the quiet clicking of a closing door.

Fox paced around in his room. Breakfast didn't seem to want to go settle, and he felt worse than he had in a long time. It was mostly loneliness, and he knew it, but that didn't make him feel any better.

He couldn't help but feel that Wolf had hinted at the truth. Fox was just bad news without even meaning to cause harm-not just for Wolf, but for everyone. Falco left Katt and the Hot Rodders to join Star Fox, and now he was caught in a loveless scene where his satisfaction was fleeting his only close friend had not-so-secretly fallen for him. Krystal was off in the unfamiliar urban maze of Corneria, all alone with her severance package and phone numbers for old friends who were, decidedly, Fox's friends first. Wolf, Falco, and Krystal could all make a good case for wishing they'd never met him.

As for Slippy, Peppy, and everyone else he cared about… well, if Fox put his mind to it, he could find some way he'd fucked them out of their lives. He was just determined to see things through a gray-tinted lens. He couldn't help it.

He checked his watch as the loneliness gnawed at him, and he got a bad idea. It was mid-afternoon by Corneria City's time, though it was still morning in the orbit of this strange planet. He didn't like it, but he felt like his grief and guilt would consume him if he didn't.

"Fox?" the bird answered. "It ain't evening yet and you're still alive, so I'm just gonna take a guess. The son of a bitch turned on you after all, and you shot him down. Congrats on three-for-three. He still breathing?"

"He hasn't done anything wrong since I got here," Fox replied. "There's no emergency. There was no fight. Honestly, I just really need to talk."

Falco sighed.

"You're making a mistake," the bird warned. "We've gone over this. Talk to me about personal shit and you'll end up just as fucked up as I am. If you really need to talk to someone, Corneria's got therapists with better ears and better minds."

"I need someone who cares," Fox replied. "And someone I care about. Right now, you're all I've got."

It was truer than he cared to acknowledge. Falco was the only real constant in his life at this point besides ROB, who didn't exactly count.

"Couldn't call Peppy?"

"Hey, Peppy!" Fox shot back in a mocking voice. "I have a lot on my chest right now. You know how I broke up with Krystal? Well, Falco and I have been looking for Wolf O'Donnell and we both got really lonely over the weeks out in space, so we screwed. Now I have some one-sided feelings toward him that I can't seem to shake, and hanging out with Wolf one-on-one makes me realize that I've been a shitty person." It was a bit more open than he usually was about how he felt, but this was nothing new. Fox cleared his throat. He and Falco had gone through this conversation once before, when Falco shot down his hopes of anything more than casual sex between them. "How's that sound?"

Falco harrumphed.

"Shit. Remember how I said no strings attached?" he chided.

"Yeah. I get it. You don't let anyone tie you down, and guys don't do it for you anyway," Fox replied. "I'm just really feeling down. Can I have a few minutes? Please?"

"You've already _had_ a few minutes," the bird grumbled. Fox almost buried his head in his pillow and… he didn't know what he was going to do, really. He felt lucky to not get that far before Falco went on. "You're lucky I'm not busy yet. Go ahead. Talk to me."

Relief poured over Fox. One less rejection made him feel just a bit better already.

"I just…" he started to say, but he couldn't form the question. "I feel like a shitty guy. Wolf talked to me this morning. You know how I ruined his whole life just by doing what I had to?"

"He's really sent you on a guilt trip?" Falco scoffed. "Even after all our prep? Sounds like we've got a master of persuasion on our hands after all. Oughta send him my way. With power like his, I'm sure he could convince me that I'm gay after all, and you and I can just live happily together for the rest of our lives. Should solve both of our problems, huh?"

Fox wondered if Falco knew how much that hurt. It actually sounded like it hurt Falco, too-like maybe the best thing Fox could do was press the issue, spend more time with the bird in bed, talk sweet to him, lose themselves together in flight sims and sex and drunken storytelling. Maybe, on some level, it was what Falco wanted, too?

It was all too tempting, as the thoughts passed through Fox's head, to make up some excuse to leave Wolf's ship and search the deepest recesses of space together for someone else to fill out their roster. Another few weeks alone in space, with only each other to satisfy their baser needs, and he could confess his love again, and maybe Falco would realize that he loved Fox too, in a way he could never love the one night stands he'd brought home in the name of lust.

Those thoughts were all the result of being on the rebound, though, and Fox had known it from the start. Falco wasn't going to have a change of heart. Fox's feelings were plenty real, but once Fox had been single for long enough, the rebound effect would subside. He just had to continue to fight it, and keep throwing himself into the tasks at hand.

It'd also help if he could somehow kill the guilt he'd started to feel.

"I don't think I'm being duped," Fox replied. "I think I've messed everyone up. The more I think about it, the more true it is. Wolf and Krystal, and even you. You'd still be with Katt if I hadn't interfered. You wouldn't just be chasing tail, never finding satisfaction."

"I would _not_ still be with the damsel in distress," Falco protested. "Might have started my own team at some point, but Star Fox was a better move. You found me at the right time. Quit beating yourself up."

Falco exaggerated the harshness in his voice, like he frequently did when he said something a little too nice. Fox cracked a smile in spite of himself.

"It figures you won't let me paint you like a victim," Fox sighed. "But Krystal and Wolf-"

"We've gone over this, Fox," Falco dismissed. "Wolf screwed himself over the minute he signed on to kill your dad. He's _always_ been on the wrong side of the law, and he's paid the price. Fucker's lucky you haven't killed him yet, cuz you have every right to. Yeah, I get where you're coming from. He's redeemed himself, or something, so we both tried to help him by clearing the bounty. We failed. He lost his crew. Doesn't matter if it's gone all wrong. We still _tried_ to help him even though he's spent years trying to make us both dead. Now, he can join Star Fox and we've promised to clear him one way or another. That's better than he's going to get from the rest of the whole damn universe. If he's ungrateful enough to turn us down, then he can go do his bad boy schtick alone and hopefully get himself killed in the process. Good riddance."

The self-assurance Fox had boarded with started to flicker back to life. It wrestled with the doubts Wolf had uncovered-the doubts Fox had about his own ability to do good, and about how even he could really make things even if he helped Wolf turn his life around.

"I don't think you understand him," Fox sighed. "I don't either."

"Don't have to," Falco said. "He's got a fair offer that he can take or leave. He's our best option for the new team, but I told you I'm not leaving Star Fox. If Wolf won't sign on, then it's us two, combing space in our loaner ship again until we find someone who can impress us in the flight sims."

Fox wondered if Falco knew what he was doing here, tempting Fox with more time alone-more time where Falco was desperate enough to physically indulge his longtime teammate. More time with shitty space food, boring days spent drifting between planets, and flight sims until they were both physically exhausted. More time that Fox wished would never end.

All temptation aside, though, Falco was right. Fox had done the right thing consistently ever since the Lylat Wars. The results may not have been so favorable for Wolf so far, but if Fox kept doing good things, everything _would_ turn out okay, even for Wolf. That was the nature of making the world a better place-the nature of doing what Star Fox always aspired to do. All Wolf had to do was not throw that away.

Really, Fox still didn't feel very good about anything he'd done so far. The feeling of dread, though, and the powerlessness he'd felt before, were at least greatly diminished. He could get through the rest on his own.

"Yeah… you know what, Falco? You're right," Fox said. It didn't mean Wolf was wrong, of course. There was still a lot of conflict in Fox's head, but at least he felt better about it all. "Thanks."

Falco sighed loudly into the phone.

"I just do what I have to," the bird replied. "Try not to let him get you fucked up like this again, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And don't miss me too much," Falco added. "It's bad for you."

The tone sounded, indicating that Falco had hung up. Fox took a deep breath, fell backward onto his bed, and stretched. He yawned, wondering how just under one hour of swimming had made him so sore. Maybe it was just something his body wasn't used to.

The clock on his nightstand read 10:05, and napping until noon sounded like the best thing he could do with his time. Fox took off his shirt, threw it aside, and rested his head on a pillow. Maybe, now that Falco had at least sort of set Fox's head on straight, he'd be able to get some decent rest.


	4. An Understanding P1

AN: I wanted to include a phone call with Falco in this post, but it's going to have to happen in a different post. Probably its own post entirely, sometime later. This has given me a lot of difficulty, with the interaction between Fox and Wolf, and implementing what I want is proving nearly impossible.

I should warn you guys, though, that if you're happy about how this chapter goes, keep in mind that there are still going to be three more chapters (four more posts) after this one, and a lot can happen. I'll try to update again within the next week, but I can't make any promises. I really thought I'd be able to post this by July 1, and look what happened. All I can promise is that for better or worse, I WILL finish this thing.

Anyway, as always, any reviews are greatly appreciated, and thank you for reading.

Chapter 4

Fox woke up feeling slightly sore, and hungry beyond his expectations. He sat up in bed and saw that he'd slept all the way to one-thirty. He stretched and picked up his shirt only to realize that both changes he'd brought on board reeked of vulpine odor even worse than his bed did. There were, on occasion, downsides to being a fox, especially since piloting was the kind of work that encouraged a nervous sweat.

He took himself and his shorts to the kitchen for lunch. More space slop was on the menu. He opted for a sandwich, which was still space slop even if it tried to pretend to be real food. Biting into it, he finally started coming to life enough to start feeling horrible about himself again.

He'd been bad for Krystal. He was still bad for Falco. And of course, he'd always been bad news for Wolf. Maybe he was even bad for himself.

It sucked. Everything sucked, and he wished he had a bottle of wine to drown his self-pity in. The feeling was probably temporary, but it'd be a while before the food started making things feel better instead of worse.

The slow clacking of claws announced Wolf's approach before Fox had even finished half of his meal. The lupine strutted down the hall in a pair of bold purple boxer briefs, bearing no trace of his earlier mood, and Fox was forced to abandon his sulking-hopefully not for long, given that the alternative was more time with his rival on what seemed to be a particularly volatile day.

Fox's luck wasn't so great this afternoon. Wolf picked up some food for himself and sat down not across from him, as he usually had, but beside him in the booth, trapping Fox there with him.

Fox cursed quietly to himself.

"If it isn't sleeping beauty," Wolf said. "Nice outfit. Really like the top half. Taking after me?"

Out of the water, Fox felt a bit more self-conscious about his slighter physique. Between their side-by-side proximity, Wolf's thicker fur, and Wolf's stronger build, the difference between their size seemed even more pronounced than in the pool, and while Wolf's body language didn't suggest any menace just yet, Fox couldn't help but feel as though he was being threatened.

"It was the only choice," Fox replied, determined to keep his cool. "I'm using your laundry machine right after I eat. You can thank me later." Wolf chuckled. "How'd you know I was asleep?"

"Knocked on your door and heard loud snoring."

"Needed me badly enough to seek me out, huh?"

"I cleared my head like I said I would," Wolf replied. "There's a bit we need to talk about. Shouldn't have to, but you're thicker-skulled than I thought. Speaking of which, how long have you been awake?"

Fox took a peek at the clock.

"Twenty minutes."

"Feel awake yet?"

Fox had actually slept pretty well, and definitely did feel awake, but he didn't want conversation right now. He wanted to finish his lunch and retreat to his room, and maybe look over Wolf's data concerning the surface. He really _didn't_ want to be trapped here at the dining table between the wall and a stronger wolf with something or another to prove.

"Not really."

Wolf shrugged.

"Thought not," Wolf said. His eyebrows narrowed. "So we'll talk until you are."

Fox rolled his eyes, eating some more and hoping Wolf would take the hint from his unresponsiveness. Naturally, he didn't.

"Before I start, I should warn you," Wolf said. "We're landing in fifteen hours. Morning's the least risky time. Got that?"

"Got it," Fox said. He repeated it back to Wolf, just to feign having difficulty processing. "Fifteen hours. Landing."

Wolf nodded.

"Good," he said. "So moving on. Shouldn't need to be awake for this one. Your ex. I want to hear what happened. She's done with Star Fox, yeah?"

Fox's throat tightened up a bit, making the next swallow of food painful. He'd expected just about anything else, even though he should've known the topic would come up again before long.

Hopefully, he could make this quick.

"Yeah. Been about three months," he replied, trying not to scowl _too_ menacingly at Wolf. It was best not to let him know a nerve had been struck. "Maybe longer. We spent two months looking for you, Falco and I."

"I want details," Wolf said. He spoke again, intercepting Fox's attempt to protest. "About her, that is. No putting this one off. You'll have no luck telling me you need to be awake to talk about water under the bridge."

Wolf was definitely serious. He had that authoritative firmness in his voice that he'd used on his squad back when he led them against the Aparoids.

Fox fished in his head for a way out of the conversation.

"Fine. Just let me put some clothes on," Fox said.

"After you warned me about your shirts?" Wolf laughed. He scooted in on Fox. "Not happening. I doubt mine would fit on you, either. Got a better excuse to run away?"

After that failure, Fox didn't have the nerve to even try again.

"Why do you need to hear about my love life?" Fox asked, peeved. "Or lack thereof?"

"Lack thereof, huh?" Wolf menaced with a brief laugh.

Fox kept his poker face strong, hoping Wolf wouldn't find out how scared he was of a certain bird being brought into this conversation. He wasn't sure he'd be able to avoid betraying how he felt, one way or another.

"Yeah."

Wolf took a large bite of his own food, swallowed it after just a few chews, and then gave a tame shrug. It was actually a relief when he didn't press the issue of Fox's _current_ interests, and went back to Krystal.

"Well, what happens if you take her back? I'd say it affects me quite a bit," Wolf replied. "How do I know you won't take her back and fire my ass a few months after I start to make myself at home?"

"She and I are _done_ ," Fox insisted. "And even if we weren't, you're a hell of a better pilot than her. I wouldn't kick you off for her, especially after all the work I'm going through to sign you on."

"You're telling me about the breakup anyway," Wolf said.

Fox really didn't want to get on the topic of his personal life here. Not with Wolf, especially.

"Can't you just take my word?" Fox complained. "Sign on and your position is secure. Krystal and I literally haven't spoken since she left. We're done."

From over his shoulder, Wolf gave Fox one of his less amused looks.

"I'm your obvious last resort. Don't pretend you'd take Wolf O'Donnell on as a teammate if you had any other choice," Wolf said. "I want the whole story."

Fox sighed. He shoved as much of his sandwich into his mouth as he could and gulped it down with a glass of water. The stuff practically dissolved on its way down his throat. He shuddered with loathing.

"You really think I'd fire you?" Fox said. "I respect you too much as a pilot. And I don't hate you."

"I know you don't hate me. I saved your life. Twice," Wolf replied, acid in his voice. Wolf cleared his throat. He didn't look at Fox while he spoke, staring across the table at the empty booth seat instead. When he spoke, the spite was gone and he sounded more collected. "I also know that reaching out to me was a move of desperation. You're keeping a story from me, and I'm going to have it."

Fox couldn't believe he was really having this conversation. It left a bitter taste in his mouth-even worse than what the space food's preservatives left.

"Fine," Fox said. He couldn't believe he was starting on this topic with anyone but Falco, but he forced himself to go on with it. "There was a scare on Sauria when the Aparoids came around. Almost lost her. Then a few of the missions afterward gave us a few more close calls. Almost lost her again."

Fox paused, collecting himself, and it seemed as though Wolf thought he was done. He jumped on the lingering pause to remind Fox that he wasn't getting off that easily.

"Then you cared. Not the sort of thing that leads to goodbye forever," Wolf goaded.

"Yeah? Well, she's a Cerinian. A telepath," Fox said. "Wasn't a problem at first. She's not that powerful. Could only read minds if the feelings were strong or the mind didn't try to resist her. But I started worrying before missions, because I'd seen her almost die. Thought some desperate things, and she could hear it. She started some fights over what I thought. Before long, I started some more over things she'd said after reading my mind. Didn't make either of us happy. She felt insulted by my lack of faith. I got angry because she couldn't acknowledge that I had a point."

When he hesitated, he expected Wolf to comment again, or perhaps add questions just to scramble Fox's brain a little more. Instead, there was a surprising silence, with Wolf patiently, expectantly sitting by his empty lunch plate. He seemed to know that Fox would give him the story he was after.

"She only heard the worst things I had to think about her, because they were always strong when I worried," Fox said. A bit of guilt panged at him, and he numbed himself to it just like he'd learned to over the past three or four months. "It shook her up. She was offended, and there was nothing either of us could do about it. She couldn't think about anything else during missions, got distracted by the hurt, and the close calls got closer and more frequent. She snapped at me more and more often, and I snapped back. By the time I asked her to leave, we'd seen each other's worst, and we both knew we can't even be friends. There's mutual disdain, and no desire to ever see each other again. She's gone for good."

Wolf waited a little longer, wondering if Fox had more to say, which wasn't the case.

"Sucks," Wolf said plainly, one arm resting on the table while the other supported his jaw in a classic thinking pose. "I'm actually a bit shocked. I guess I should've just taken your word on it after all, or just remembered that no one wants to talk to exes."

Wolf gave a few shallow laughs that made his chest fur fluff up. His stoic face contrasted with the goofy displacement of his fur.

"I don't know," Wolf continued. "I just figured you don't follow a cynic's rules, because you usually don't. Figured you were too much of a nice guy to have nasty breakups like the rest of us, or something. Didn't think I'd be this lucky."

He said the last sentence pointedly, with the trace of a laugh. Fox didn't bother to ask why.

"Well, you could have been right about that," Fox replied. "I do stay friends with my exes. Just not with Krystal. Telepathy is a bit of a monkey wrench. You know, we don't talk about it, and that's what makes us nice, but we nice guys think bad things just like everyone else."

"Profound," Wolf said. "Proud of yourself for that one?"

Fox wasn't sure how sincere or sarcastic Wolf was on that, but his mood was a far cry from his flagrant, biting sarcasm earlier in the day. Whether or not he actually meant it as a compliment, he wasn't making mockery.

Talking was starting to feel… easy? Less painful than he would've ever expected from his fiercest competitor, at least.

Fox shrugged in response to the lupine.

"Well, regardless, sounds like you're awake now," Wolf said. "So I'm getting on with what I hunted you down for. Remember my conditions for working with you?"

Fox hadn't forgotten; his mind was definitely on business for as long as he was out here with Wolf.

"Bounty cleared, competition, and some sort of understanding," Fox replied.

"Good," Wolf said. "I wasn't clear about the understanding bit, but now's as good a time as any."

Fox's eyes went wide, and he held up a hand in protest. There was definitely _one_ particular understanding that they needed to come to, and Fox had decided that the best answer to that problem was a non-answer.

"Hold it. If this has anything to do with my father, stop right there," Fox said firmly. "I thought about it. We need each other now, so I have to be okay with you. I'd rather not know how involved you were or weren't."

"Can't say I'll respect that wish, but this has nothing to do with your dad," Wolf replied. Fox found it difficult to believe, but listened patiently. "Any idea why I didn't kick you off of this ship, pup? Have you thought about it?"

Fox shook his head, still as clueless as he'd been before his nap.

"No."

"Thought not," Wolf said. "For a clever guy, you're pretty dense, so I'll spell a few things out. I probably don't seem like the type, but I dated heavily during my Academy years. My exes weren't very ambitious. I competed with them and won all the damn time, no matter what the area was, and it got old. They didn't think much of it, and didn't care for me after a while, so things just felt stale, and they all thought I was a conceited asshole by the time things ended. Had a pretty good point, I'll admit, but they just didn't get me enough to see _my_ point of view. I wasn't just a conceited asshole. I was an asshole who refused to stop improving. I was going to be the best damn pilot in all of Lylat, who put piloting ahead of everything else and didn't care who he stepped on or what it cost."

The thought of a younger Wolf dating _anyone_ was quite amusing. He could imagine all the ill-fated quips that his exes had tolerated until finally one was the straw that broke the camel's back. Fox thought to pointedly ask Wolf who had ended his past few relationships. Based on what Wolf had just told him, he had a feeling that it wasn't Wolf who typically dropped the bomb.

Fox thought better of it. Snide remarks about exes would probably only prompt returned fire with the ammunition he'd just given Wolf about Krystal, and that was still a sore subject, considering that for all the animosity between the two exes, Fox still felt like the villain.

Sure, he'd come to Krystal's rescue twice on Sauria, but it was only for him to break her heart and turn her loose.

He'd done her wrong.

"Well, there's your problem," Fox blurted out. "Not many girls are into competing with their boyfriends. You might have better luck if you accommodate that."

As if Wolf were the accommodating type.

"See, that's what needs spelling out," Wolf said, flashing a wicked grin. He turned his whole body toward Fox, resting one arm on the table and the other on the back of the booth seats. Fox felt boxed in even more than when Wolf had arrived, and his brows raised. "That's what you're really not seeming to pick up on, even though I've given you every sign a guy could ask for." Devilish glee lit up Wolf's eyes, bringing Fox back to the old image of the younger, wilder Wolf from the picture that was presently a few feet behind him. "I don't date girls."

Wolf leaned in, closing the short distance between them. He planted the kiss on Fox's lips for just long enough to give him a taste, and then Wolf withdrew. He looked into Fox's widening eyes, and Fox looked into Wolf's by default, and the whole world started to spin.

Fox spent a moment in denial; he could've blinked and missed the kiss, so it was almost like nothing had happened at all. But the taste of Wolf's lips was still on his, the scent of his breath still lingered prominently around Fox's nose, and the lupine head was still right there, so close that Fox could close the distance in an instant for another shot if he dared. In this odd state of shellshock and clouded judgment, he realized that some part of him actually wanted to.

His mouth hung slightly open and his ears stayed perked up like never before. He didn't bother wondering how stupid he looked; he _felt_ stupid enough to where his looks couldn't possibly come close enough to be of concern.

Fox cringed as he came to. He should've been prepared for something like this. It should've been far more obvious, but Fox had just been too sidetracked with appeasing Wolf and trying not to fall into any traps.

Neither of them spoke until Fox had settled enough for him to at least stop _looking_ dumb. He got his willpower together and reminded himself that however awkward things got, his whole lifestyle was dependent on things going well between himself and Wolf.

"Yeah," Fox finally admitted. "I should've caught on."

It felt like there was no point even bothering to count all the hints he'd missed as realizations from the past few days hit him right and left.

"Amazing that you missed it for so long, between all the hints and red herrings," Wolf remarked.

"Red herrings?"

"I didn't take you to the pool to flirt," Wolf said, and while Fox wanted to ask what else there was, it wasn't worth going off topic.

"What happens now?" Fox asked.

Fox let out a cry of surprise as Wolf grabbed under his arms and hoisted him up. Wolf sat him on the table and pushed him against the wall, and before Fox know it, Wolf's body was pushing his against the wall, and two hands pinned Fox's arms above his head by the wrist.

"Now that you've let me pin you?" Wolf said. He scooted in even closer despite the awkward angle. "As much as I can get away with."

Fox's attempt to protest was cut off by a well-timed kiss, and for just a moment, Fox resisted, straining his arms against those of his captor despite the terrible leverage. With his trapped fox pinned so haphazardly, the taller canine had to contort himself to make his body touch Fox's at all, but that didn't matter. Wolf's bare torso pressed against Fox as much as he could make it, and a warm sensation shooed away Fox's desire to free himself.

For the moment, it didn't even register that he was Fox McCloud, or that the aggressive tongue in his mouth belonged to Wolf O'Donnell. The moment was alive, and Fox gave himself to it until Wolf finally got tired enough of the bad angle to break the kiss.

Wolf pulled Fox by the shoulders and dragged them both back on the table with Wolf on his back and Fox atop him. Wolf's arms closed around Fox's chest, while Fox's arms reached out limply beyond his head. Wolf's legs tangled with Fox's, and he ran his fingers through the fur of Fox's back.

Fox whined as his tension melted away. Wolf's hand reached into the back side Fox's pants and squeezed both sides of Fox's ass as the vulpine released his heavy breaths into the gray fur of Wolf's firm chest. His legs pried Fox's apart, spreading his ass, and a single finger met no resistance as it drew slowly toward dangerous territory.

Both hands left Fox's pants. The warm, fuzzy sensation left Fox, and reality started to set back in. It clicked in his head that he'd just kissed Wolf O'Donnell, and that his head was resting under the gray lupine's chin, breathing in the earthy scent of dried sweat along with some traces of chlorine.

Fox realized that his arms now hung over the edge of the table, and wondered when Wolf had slid them that far from the wall. He still couldn't force himself to remove his head from where it nested comfortably, but he could coax a few words out of his mouth.

"Why'd you stop?" Fox whined.

Fox bit his tongue. Those weren't the words he'd meant to say. He'd meant to ask Wolf what the hell he thought he was doing, what kind of game he was playing here… anything that could save some face, even though it was obviously too late for that.

"Because I'd have to take these off," Wolf replied, pulling the band of Fox's underwear and releasing it so that it slapped against the vulpine's slender waist. Wolf's words distorted a bit, with his mouth a little too close to Fox's ear. "I'm not going to fuck you on the table. We'll take this to my room."

Fox convinced himself that he wouldn't have to deal with the weight of reality as long as he kept his head on a patch of gray fur. He stayed as he was until Wolf gave a few rude pushes to Fox's shoulder, finally convincing him to sit up.

Looking into Wolf's face again brought conflict. He was still caught in the heat of their desire, on a pheromone-induced high, undeniably wishing that Wolf would finish what he'd started. At the same time, this was the same Wolf he'd considered an enemy for all this time, who he'd rightly treated with caution and distrust for as long as they'd known each other.

Habit warned Fox that he couldn't let Wolf get him pinned like he had just moments ago. The fact that he loved it didn't matter. Whether or not they were currently enemies, Wolf would always be his nemesis, and as reality set back in, Fox was determined as ever not to be defeated.

Fox scooted curtly off of the table, followed by Wolf. The haze was finally clearing from his head.

"This is a horrible idea," Fox lamented.

"Really?" Wolf replied. "For who?"

"Both of us." Fox wasn't in the mood to think about it, but everything he needed to say was already in the past. He'd fought with Wolf enough by now. "What would everyone think? We'd never live this down."

Wolf snorted.

"You've let fame get to your head, huh?" Wolf accused. "If you're worried about what the public thinks of you at this point, you shouldn't be. You're the only pilot who can contend with me, and you've saved Lylat twice from certain destruction. You can afford a few quirks."

Fox crossed his arms at his chest.

"You don't get it," Fox protested, even though he really wasn't sure what it was that he was saying Wolf didn't get.

Reason was beyond him at this point, and he just wanted to stump Wolf for long enough to breathe and figure out why he wanted something he knew he shouldn't.

"Worried about what your bird friend thinks?" Wolf guessed. "I wouldn't be. He's in no position to judge. Ever see the looks he stole at me when the Aparoids were still around? He'd have taken my knot by now if I had any interest. Lucky for you, I don't do little girls."

"Don't flatter yourself," Fox growled. "He's not into you."

"Seriously, though, have you seen what I'm talking about?" Wolf continued. "Bet it eats him up a few nights a week, thinking about it and knowing he can never have me. If he makes an issue of us starting a thing, he has _no idea_ what he's in for."

The words came out louder and quicker than Fox intended.

"Damn it, Wolf!" Fox barked back. "He's not into you! Fuck off!"

He bit his tongue a few seconds too late. The snarl on his lips retreated, as if it could somehow turn back time or undo jealous face he'd made. He tried to shrug it off, but he knew he'd already made the worst response he possibly could have.

Wolf ran the trail from disarmed shock to short bursts of incredulous laughter. For the longest time, he didn't even talk, and Fox just slouched in place, realizing just how badly he'd fucked up.

Fox saw it on his face. Now Wolf knew everything.

"Holy shit," the lupine muttered in a low, soft voice that Fox hadn't heard from him before. Wolf shook his head emphatically, then picked his volume and clarity back up when he found the gumption to talk again. "You've actually fucked him, haven't you? Please tell me you two boy scouts aren't a thing."

There Wolf was, as though the world had been flipped on him, a dumbstruck laugh escaping him every couple of seconds. He looked somewhere between delighted and crushed.

"Just do your worst," Fox moped, now that there was no talking himself out of it. He slumped in his seat, breaking eye contact with his old rival.

"Trust me. If this were a better time, I'd love to," Wolf said. He sighed. "So what are you two? Boyfriends? Exes? Fuck buddies?"

Fox cringed. When he'd told Wolf to do his worst, Fox had expected teasing, not questions.

"Haven't I answered enough of your questions today?"

"Apparently not."

"Just drop it, Wolf. I'm not answering."

"Unwise, and not very fair, all things considered," Wolf said. "If you're really not going to answer my questions, I'll taunt and tease you for the next fifteen hours. Worse than it sounds. I'm _really_ good at finding weak points."

It wasn't actually the threat that made Fox cave in. Rather, he realized that he really wasn't being fair here. Somehow, Wolf had taken interest in him, so the least Fox could do was let him know just how available he was or wasn't.

"Fine. But then you answer my questions."

"Deal."

Fox took a deep breath.

"He's straight," Fox said. "He was desperate for sex, so we did it. No strings attached, we agreed. I wanted more, and I still do."

Wolf cringed at that last sentence. For a while, neither canid said anything.

"You deserve better," Wolf finally said. "Are you sure he's what you want?"

"Two can play at that," Fox replied. "Are you sure I'm what you want?"

"Positive."

Wolf said it without a moment's hesitation, as though he'd been expecting that question for years. Fox felt his ears drop back just a bit.

"Why?" Fox asked.

"Lots of reasons, but you want something specific, right?" Wolf replied. He didn't wait for Fox's affirmation. "I've never had a boyfriend who could keep up."

Their history was definitely checkered. Wolf had made two attempts on Fox's life, and in turn, Fox had shot him down both times, devastated Sargasso, and left the Aparoid homeworld without so much as checking on him.

But for all the conflicts he and Wolf had in the past, Fox believed him. Even scarier for Fox, he actually felt just a bit… hopeful? Excited?

"Well, I'll be in my room," Wolf announced resolutely. He stepped over to the hallway leading to his room and stood at its mouth. "Wish we could finish what we started, but I'm not playing if you haven't decided what you want. Make up your mind and let me know. You'd better still be good to work with me when I land the ship."

"Wait, what?" Fox said.

Wolf scoffed in response.

"You think I'll fuck you while you haven't made up your mind?" Wolf replied. "Talk to Falco and clear up where you two stand. Don't worry. I'm committed to working with you two no matter what you choose." He rubbed his temple and let out a few bitter laughs. "I honestly never thought I'd get as far as we just did, and I was determined to fly with you. I just took a chance, and I guess I got lucky… or not. That damn bird was the last thing I ever thought would become an obstacle."

"He's not-"

Wolf held a palm up and shook his head, silencing Fox.

"You ought to save it," Wolf said. "Think. Come see me if you need to, but give it time or I'll just get upset again. I'll be in my room."

"Hold on," Fox said, but Wolf paid him no heed.

He walked away with extra strut, shaking his ass a little more than usual with each step. Fox couldn't tell if Wolf was trying to tempt him or taunt him… or both. Wolf shut the door to his room behind him, leaving Fox to wonder how much of that had really even happened.

When reality set back in, Fox realized he had to make a phone call.


	5. An Understanding P2

AN: I want to apologize. This fic isn't dead. I'm going to finish it, even if I have to rush a bit. There will be two more chapters. I'll get to them as soon as I can.

Basically, my excuse is that I've recently started a new job and gone through a breakup, and it's all kept me busy. On the upside, I'm now some sort of engineer, so whatever.

I should mention that this chapter is significantly less polished than the rest were, in my opinion. I just had to get it done and have it set up for the next chapter, which is the one I've been wanting to write since the start. Expect it to be a while before I post again, by the way. Lots going on. If there are plot holes, I'm sorry. Same goes for flubs of other natures.

As always, though, thanks to everyone who's reviewed or commented thus far. You guys make me determined to finish this fic after all.  
I might update this some when I have time for attention to detail.

He'd texted Falco this time, and told him to call as soon as it was a good time to talk. Texting and waiting would have to do, even with only half a day's time separating him from the next land mission. For the kind of discussion Fox needed, it wouldn't be fair to call him and risk getting him at a bad time.

Fox had his book to keep him occupied while he waited, but the call took longer than expected. It wasn't until he'd been reading for nearly two hours that Fox's comm channel rang. He closed his book and picked up on the second ring.

"I got your text," Falco said.

In the background, Fox could hear the thumping of loud bass. Falco was at another nightclub, and it was only seven in the evening by Cornerian time. That might as well have already confirmed what Fox had called to check, and he was tempted to hang up and call the matter settled.

That wouldn't be fair to either of them, really. Fox owed Falco better than a large leap to a sad conclusion. And besides, the whole point of the call was to resolve the matter explicitly, for better or worse. He had to fight the good fight, at least one more time.

"Out on the prowl again, huh?" Fox remarked.

It wasn't what he'd meant to say, but he couldn't help but acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"You could say that," Falco replied. "Might even say I'm insatiable."

Hearing any more of this would just make it hurt. Fox braced himself.

"There's a talk we need to have," Fox said. He swallowed, hoping it'd calm his nerves. "About us. About what we mean to each other. If there's anything you've been holding back, it needs to go out in the open now."

There was a long pause, as per usual when Fox brought up the topic.

"Oh boy. Gonna be a fun night, huh?" Loud static took over the phone's feed. Fox heard Falco gulp down his drink and order another. "What's this all about? Couldn't wait to talk in person?"

Directness was probably the best approach here.

"Wolf is interested in me," Fox said. "We made out."

Static again from the other side, but this time loud, frantic, and brief.

"What the hell!? Warn me next time you're gonna make a crack like that!" Falco complained. "I just wasted a good shot of vodka!"

It was easier now that Fox had dug himself in deep. The tough part was always just getting started in the first place.

"I'm serious," Fox said. "It happened. I should've suspected it sooner, but I just wasn't looking for the signs, and I never considered it possible enough to even ask myself if I could want him back."

He tried to say more, because he _had_ to let Falco know that this really might be his last chance. The words failed him. He still couldn't bring himself to admit, even in his head, that he'd enjoyed the experience-that if Wolf had tried to fuck him right there, Fox would've let him and probably loved it.

"I don't like this," Falco said. "But I think I know where you're going with it. Don't ask for permission, because I ain't your babysitter, but promise me something. Do what you want with him, but don't compete with him until I'm around to back you up, and don't give him a chance to kill you no matter what you do. He'll freaking do as soon as you lower your guard, mark my words."

It caught Fox off guard. Falco… only thought he was asking for permission, or for some opinion? How did he not know the big, burning question that Fox had really called to ask?

"You're on the wrong track here," Fox said firmly.

"Don't care. Promise me anyway that you won't give him a chance to really . Just until I have a chance to fry his fluffy ass if he tries anything."

"Fine. I promise," Fox sighed. "But you have to hear me out on something more important."

Falco snorted audibly.

"I'm all ears."

Fox took a deep breath.

"I need to ask you one more time. Say the word, and I end things right where they left. Wolf and I never kiss again, because I'd choose you over him. You and I admit we love each other, we share a bed every night, and everything goes right. Or for all I care, we can take things slower if you're just willing to give me a chance," Fox said. "I just need to give you the chance to make a decision. This might be your last opportunity, but you're my first choice and I want you the most."

Fox's breathing had become heavy and labored. The words had all just spilled out, and more wanted to come out as well. He wanted to tell Falco he loved him, tell Falco he'd do anything for him… but he'd learned by now to stop himself. Words could hurt a lot more than he could predict.

"Fox. I don't want you."

Falco's voice was resolute and precise. It sounded like he'd been preparing for this. Bracing himself really didn't take away from the sting Fox felt.

"Falco, seriously," Fox replied, hoping that what he'd heard was just a snap reaction that Falco hadn't thought through. It was wishful thinking, for certain. "I need to make sure you know how I feel, or I'll regret it forever. Give it some thought."

"I've given it thought," Falco replied immediately. "I don't want you. If I did, it'd be convenient for both of us, but it ain't like that. We had what we had because we both needed it, but other guys aren't my scene. How many times do you need to hear it, huh?"

He felt his heart sink, but there was a bitterness to the feeling. A bitterness that he didn't think he could feel toward Falco, just barely starting to sprout.

Fox willed that feeling away. Falco was his longtime friend and ally. They'd stay that way forever, no matter what Fox's heart tried to tell him in an especially crushing moment.

"Maybe just this once more," Fox replied. He couldn't keep a bit of spite out of his voice, but his mind was strong enough to contain the negative feelings a little more with every second. "I'll let Wolf know what you said, and something might happen between us."

Fox regretted letting that slip, but strangely not because of Falco. More because using Wolf as a threat felt so unfair to Wolf. Thinking that in his head, it almost didn't feel real that Wolf was a romantic option at all, much less a legitimate candidate for his lasting affection.

"Aw, don't give me that," Falco scoffed. "You're just gonna come back to me, crying or whining like always. Wolf's bad news and you'll see it soon enough, and I'm gonna have to come out of Corneria to save your fluffy ass again."

It was tempting to tell Falco to just not bother, and to tell him to leave Fox to his fate. What was Wolf going to do? Shoot the only rival he ever found worth his time? Aggressively fuck a horny vulpine who'd almost certainly enjoy it?

Neither one seemed terribly likely, with things as they were.

The only thing that stopped Fox from telling Falco to just go back to his vacation and forget him was a remaining touch of stubbornness.

"I trust him," Fox replied instead.

"Then you're an idiot," Falco said matter-of-factly. "And you're always going to need me around to bail you out of these messes you get yourself into. I sure wish you could do it without having the hots for me, you know that?"

"I can," Fox replied. He almost believed it. Maybe, with some time, he could convince himself that he believed it in full. "That's kind of why I made this call. To be with Wolf, I'd have to seriously give you up. I had to make sure, one last time, that you're okay with that."

"You really that conceited? Not _everyone_ is into you!" Falco grumbled. "For fuck's sake, Fox, if you're going to give Wolf a chance, then just do it already! Don't get yourself killed and I'm not going to care."

It hit Fox like a slap to the face, and with a similar awakening effect. Falco was way too harsh in the way he said it, to the point that Fox wondered how the bird could care so little for _anyone_ he'd slept with, but he awakened Fox to one cold, hard reality. Wolf was interested in him, and Falco wasn't.

Suddenly, things didn't seem so gray, and the choice didn't feel difficult. This wasn't a matter of choosing one lover over another, but rather, Fox was choosing companionship over solitude. And all he even had to do, strange as it was to consider, was give Wolf a fraction of the chance he'd given Falco.

"Alright," Fox said. His mind started to feel a little more settled with every second that passed. He was doing something that was good for him. "I'll be careful."

"Glad that's settled," Falco said indignantly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some tail to chase."

Admittedly, Fox still didn't feel comfortable with the prospect of Falco sleeping around. But as a first step toward getting over what he could never have, Fox forced himself to let that discomfort go.

"Have fun," Fox said.

Falco hung up, leaving Fox to contemplate what he hadn't dared to face before.

He'd tried this before. Having Falco on his mind tended to do weird things to his composure. Every time Falco had clarified his disinterest in the past, Fox had privately freaked out for quite some time-and there had been several times.

This time, though, things felt different… because of Wolf? Because he had someone else to direct his repressed mushiness at, even though all they'd shared was a years-long rivalry, a few days together, and a steamy makeout session?

Somehow, directing his chaotic romanticism toward Wolf in the same way he had toward Falco just didn't feel fair to his perennial rival. He felt comfortable with Falco, so maybe that was part of why, but Wolf somehow just seemed to demand something different than the kind of frenzied longing Fox was typically inclined to express. Something more earnest, less transparent, and just as even-footed.

Fox nearly threw himself back onto his bed for a nap, because that was what he'd become used to doing after his conversations with Falco. He stopped himself just before the momentum was too much to halt, though, and he stood straight up with resolve.

He marched out of his room, over to Wolf's room, and planted a knock on the door. It felt a little bit crazy, but if they were both going to spend the next hours thinking about what to make of their future together, professional or otherwise, then Wolf deserved to be kept in the loop. The lupine's voice answered his knock.

"Door's open. Come in."

Fox turned the handle and swung the door open. He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind for the second time in a day and blurted out his verdict before they'd even made eye contact.

"I talked to him," Fox said. "He and I aren't a thing, and we won't be."

Fox almost blushed. Wolf stood by his dresser with his back turned to Fox, and Fox caught the last second of Wolf casually pulling a form-fitting pair of black briefs over his bare gray-furred ass. He looked at Fox as though daring him to remark, and Fox didn't take the bait. As Wolf closed the underwear drawer, and Fox caught a glimpse of its shockingly diverse contents, managing again to avoid any reaction. In any other circumstances, this would've been a great opportunity to give Wolf hell, but given the circumstances, it just didn't feel right to try.

"Is that so?" Wolf said. His face dared Fox to ask what he'd been doing naked, as if the immediate guess weren't enough. Oddly, it didn't look like he'd been doing anything especially lewd; there was no sign of a pronounced bulge from the angle Fox had. Perhaps he just slept naked? "I hope you didn't manage to piss him off. You're still on co-working terms?"

Fox nodded, waited for Wolf to say something, and was met by eye contact and surprising silence.

"Jeez," Wolf finally said. "If you're not spilling details, I'm at least making myself comfy."

As Fox maintained a state of inaction, Wolf planted himself on his bed, sank the back of his head into a large pillow, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Considering that he'd just been told that the object of his interests was now completely on the market, he looked surprisingly unenthused, with his usual imposing scowl aimed at nothing in particular.

"Not sure what details I'd even spill," Fox replied. "Everything still in order with you?"

Wolf sighed and made Fox wait a little, perhaps as his sort of petty revenge? Since plopping down on the bed, Wolf also persistently avoided eye contact.

"You might say that," he replied. "The decision is in your hands. You need more time to think about what happens between us, or I'm pretty sure you'd have suggested something by now."

"Yeah," Fox said. He stood over the foot of Wolf's bed, watching Wolf stare off into the empty space of the ceiling. "Looks like you're thinking, too."

"You might say that," Wolf dismissed.

Fox couldn't tell what that was supposed to mean, but he was in a brave enough mood to ask after what had just happened with Falco.

"Something I should know?"

Wolf sighed. He still wouldn't give Fox the comfort of eye contact, even as the vulpine sat on the other side of the bed, staring at his barely-clothed rival, feeling the tension that hung in the air and uncertainty as to whether or not Wolf's casual lack of modesty should make him uncomfortable.

"You really want to open a can of worms?" Wolf asked.

"Isn't that the type of guy I am?" Fox replied. The tone of his voice made the question more of a challenge, and it didn't escape his notice when Wolf's ears twitched against the pillow.

"Not letting me off easy, huh, pup?" Wolf said. "You know, I'll admit it. I've wanted to fuck you since the day we met. Surprised?"

He said it with powerful conviction, and Fox could feel the lust in his voice, but nothing strained against the black fabric around his waist. To Fox's alarm, though, he realized that he was just the slightest bit aroused already himself, just from a few charged words from his rival.

Fox tried not to sound affected.

"A little, to be honest," Fox admitted. "I was pretty sure you just wanted me dead."

Wolf snorted.

"Just a backup plan. I was willing to settle for dead," he replied. "Turns out you're a lot harder to kill than you are to fuck."

"You might be surprised," Fox said.

There was no time to react. Or rather, there was, but the position was bad for him, the difference in strength between the two made Fox's disadvantage worse, and most importantly, Fox really didn't want to resist what was coming.

Wolf pulled Fox down on the bed so that he laid belly-up. He pressed down on Fox's shoulders as the vulpine made halfhearted attempts at futile resistance, and he resolved things by straddling Fox's midsection. Wolf sat on his pinned rival with a smug grin on his face, their faces close enough to smell each other's breath clearly. Wolf had taken a shot of alcohol, and Fox suspected that that scent would've been stronger on his breath if he'd come by an hour or two later.

"Feels like I could make either happen about now," Wolf said. He reached back and felt up Fox's growing bulge. Fox didn't even feel like he had control of himself anymore; Wolf had put Fox under the spell of his contagious lust, and he was already pent up to begin with. There was no point trying to will his erection away. "Care to tell me otherwise?"

"Why haven't you done it yet, then?" Fox challenged, painfully aware of just how likely Wolf was to follow through on it this time. His eyes drew to the full bulge in Wolf's underwear that had risen to complete hardness in a matter of seconds. "You had your chance earlier. And now, Falco isn't even a factor. What's stopping you?"

Wolf chuckled… bitterly?

"Brave question," Wolf commended. He brought his head in so close to Fox's that a mouth full of sharp teeth, a purple eye, and a bionic interface eclipsed all else. Fox noticed a taste in the air-strong breath from the whisky that Wolf had probably taken only minutes ago. "Just for that, I'll tell you."

Wolf took himself off of Fox, the warmth of his fur setting itself down where it had been before. He stared back up at the ceiling, and his hardness seemed to have shrunk almost as quickly as it had grown. The lupine took deep breaths that sounded like they might lead into the start of something, always false alarms.

Fox started to get impatient, memory of Wolf's grip still lingering on his arms. He wished Wolf would get back on him and pick up where he'd left off.

"Need another shot to handle me?" he goaded.

Wolf growled beneath his breath.

"Don't flatter yourself, pup," Wolf said. "The alcohol has nothing to do with you. I take two shots of something strong before every mission to loosen up. Waited a while, but I thought if you were coming to see me, you'd have been here by now. Thought you'd keep crying over your little broken heart, and you'd sulk and wish someone would come make it all better. Thought by the time you got your head together and brought your ass over here, I wouldn't even be buzzed anymore, and I could decide what I'm going to do with you on a clear head."

The teasing was starting to drive Fox crazy. This was even worse than before, when they'd been making out; he was denied Wolf's touch, but just as desperate for sex, still subjected to all the pheromones in the air and, admittedly, still uncannily attracted to his longtime nemesis even without outside factors. The more he dwelt on it, the more he craved the rival he'd never even thought to consider as an option.

Thinking about it, he couldn't believe he'd never tried to get to know Wolf before, even during those rare periods where Wolf wasn't doing anything particularly reprehensible or illegal. He'd always just felt so uncomfortable-so self-conscious, as though Wolf would find a weakness in Fox's armor and use it to defeat him once in for all. He never would've guessed he'd one day find himself right on the verge of begging Wolf to what could arguably be seen as exactly that.

Too much overthinking of things started to chip away at Fox's mental stamina, and the heat of his attraction made it even more difficult to control himself. He wanted little more than for Wolf to fuck him to tears, and not just because he needed the sex. He wanted Wolf to subdue him and claim him; after all this time of the lupine pushing him to his limit, making him nearly taste defeat, Fox just wanted to give in and break, and let this one time even the score so that the pressure to resist Wolf could finally be gone. Even as he scolded himself for thinking it, nothing in the world has quite as much appeal in that moment.

Fox removed his shirt, then slid his pants off, leaving himself in boxer briefs that preserved his modesty only a little better than what Wolf wore. Perhaps because his bionic eye didn't have the same range as a natural one, or perhaps just as a display of self-control, Wolf paid the gesture no notice even as Fox's repositioning shook the bed.

"Enough of this, Wolf," Fox grumbled, forcing his rival to pay attention to him. "We both want it. There's nothing stopping us. Fuck me already."

Wolf snorted.

"Not so easily," Wolf replied. "It might have happened before I had time to think it through, if you just hadn't mentioned the bird while I was getting down to business. It's probably good that you brought him up, though. What I was going to do would've been a one-time thing, where I fuck the daylights out of you and live on that memory for the rest of my life, because afterwards I'd tell you something you deserve to know, and things would never be the same between us again. If I take you now, it's not going to be a one-time thing. You're going to have to hear me out first, and then tell me you still want me to claim you. I don't think you will."

Fox could hardly stand the anticipation at this point. He didn't care what odd thing Wolf had going for him; Fox could feel just what Wolf was going to do to his body, and that was all he needed to know for Wolf to fuck him.

"Just get on with it!" he barked.

Wolf gave Fox the hint of a wicked smile… or a scowl?

"Your father," Wolf said, and Fox knew exactly what Wolf was about to discuss. He might as well have been sucker-punched. "You don't want to hear it, and it's not an easy topic, but you're not getting away from it even if you suddenly don't want me to fuck you. You should know how badly I wanted to kill him by the time he and I had our showdown."

Fox took a deep breath. This wasn't the time to do anything rash, especially with Wolf sitting there so physically nonthreatening in this laying position. But this was a sore subject, and one he'd been shoving aside for a long time. He started to feel the vengeful burning that had propelled him through the Lylat Wars and pushed him past his limits to the point of… hallucination? When he imagined his dad guiding him out of Venom?

This wasn't the kind of feeling Fox ever ignored outright. He was known for trusting his instincts-maybe not enough to clock Wolf hard on the head like he deserved, but at least enough to let them guide what he said.

"I'm going to hear you out," Fox replied, sitting up while Wolf stayed comfortably in place. "And depending on what I hear, we might just get in our ships, and I might just kill you once and for all."

"I'd ask for nothing less," Wolf replied.

"Continue."

Wolf complied surprisingly easily.

"My family wasn't the best," Wolf said. "Nobles, if I didn't tell you. But not exactly rich, which might be why you don't know another O'Donnell. And if you do know of any, it's because they were mostly secessionists. Most of my cousins and a few of my sisters have been rotting in jail since long before I went bad, all for saying stupid things that they thought might make the family name carry weight again. Of course, this was before I went bad." Wolf made quotation marks in the air at those last two words, and sneered through them. "The Academy was pretty reluctant to accept me because of my family, and their own internal politics, but I swore I wouldn't make them regret it, and I became the best damn pilot they'd seen."

"Seems like you've done a great job at not making them regret it," Fox said pointedly.

"Wasn't my damn fault I turned coat on them," Wolf snarled. "You know what happened right after I graduated?"

"You went and joined Andross," Fox said. "I'm pretty familiar with your story from the Academy days and onward."

Fox remembered the news like it was yesterday; not three months after receiving his certification, the charismatic valedictorian three classes ahead of his had left Corneria to become one of Andross's most dangerous lieutenants. Even before his father's demise, that news had made Fox that much more determined to beat Wolf in the air when they finally met.

It was hard to believe it, but perhaps their rivalry had started even before they met.

"You're half right, but that's jumping the gun a bit," Wolf said. He still stared at the ceiling, talking as though he'd grown tired of telling some story that Fox had somehow never heard. "When Andross seceded, I decided to make good on my word. Not sure you realize this, but your dad was something of a hero, and a bunch of kids like me worshipped him. As soon as I graduated and got access to a few ships in the hangar, I labbed desperately for a whole month. I practiced until I literally performed routines in my sleep and the line between dreams and reality blurred. Finally, when I felt I was ready, I went to request a job with the great James McCloud in person."

Fox snorted, bitterness surfacing in his voice.

"Yeah, that sounds like exactly what happened," Fox sneered.

The story just didn't add up, and with his knowledge of how Wolf had become one of the last things his father ever saw, Fox resented the pilot beside him. He couldn't imagine how he'd lusted for the treacherous bastard only a few short minutes ago. It took a great deal of restraint to keep from caving his smug face into his jaw mid-sentence as Wolf continued, ignoring the tension in the air.

"He was desperate for a fourth. Seems like four-member teams are always the ones that do great things. You see them in history books and newspapers all the time, and there's probably a good reason that's beyond my power to see," Wolf said. "There'd been rumors, though. A bunch of ace pilots saying Andross had offered them a small fortune to betray the only Cornerian he perceived as a threat. Most of my family went publicly in support of Andross, so your dad turned me down and eventually settled with just three."

Wolf gave a bitter chuckle.

"You wouldn't believe how I begged. You'd probably never see me the same way again if you could hear how I pleaded, how much I told him, how persistently I pleaded, crying on my knees, for him to let me meet my destiny," Wolf laughed. He finally turned on his side to face Fox, a sharp-toothed killer's smile on his face. "Think you're alone? Think you're the only one who went through hell to become the best in the world for some great purpose? Before you dropped out to start your campaign, _I_ was going to take down Andross. Better believe I was a better pilot than your asshole father who turned me down, too."

That was enough from Wolf. Fox sat up, corrected his posture, and threw a slug at the unprepared canid.

Wolf hadn't rested nearly as much of his head's weight on his arms as Fox had thought. A firm grip closed around Fox's right hand. Wolf rolled over in the blink of an eye, as though he'd been waiting for this, and twisted Fox's arm behind his back. His eyes widened in pain as Wolf drove his knee into Fox's back, subduing the vulpine and pressing his face into a pillow.

"I'm surprised it took you that long to snap. My neck was starting to get sore from supporting my head at a bad angle," Wolf acknowledged coolly, relishing the moment just a little more audibly before continuing as though he didn't finally have Fox truly pinned and overpowered against his will for the first time. "Anyway, you'll never be able to break my heart quite the way he did right there… not that he was my type in the slightest. As far as sex is concerned, my interests tended to be inferior, lesser versions of you. But he broke my heart anyway, without ever having it, and he didn't seem to care. I decided I was going to kill him for it. I was hellbent on a dogfight, just him and me, and it turned out Andross was the only one who could give me that. I had to beat out whole teams on my own to earn that right, and until Andross gave me a Wolfen, I had to do it all in an old stolen Arwing. But it came down to skill, so that was hardly a problem. And when Pigma betrayed your father, because someone was eventually going to, I got my chance."

And here it was. The confession. That truth from years ago that Fox had spent this whole expedition trying to avoid knowing for certain. Now, pinned as he was, he had to hear it.

"Go to hell!" Fox shouted.

"I'm sure I will," Wolf said. "But the great senior James McCloud loved denying me the one thing I wanted, whatever that was at the time. We met on Venom, and we exchanged fire. I hit him three times on the first pass, twice on the second pass, and his shield was halfway gone by the time one stray shot landed on me because I'd baited it and paid back double. With enough direct hits in a short time, shields could hardly save him and the damage was starting to show. So I did it with witnesses to vouch for me. I held nothing back and outclassed the son of a bitch, and he knew he was going to die if he let the fight go on, so you know what he did?"

Fox struggled against the impossible grip. He knew it was futile, but he was beyond reason at this point. All he could do was defy Wolf against all odds of

"I don't care," Fox spat. "My dad is dead because of you. I'll kill you for what you did."

"You think so?" Wolf challenged. "Don't be so sure, and don't be so sure."

Wolf cleared his throat as his questions and the vulpine's own fatigue halted his struggling. Was Wolf... choking up? Just the tiniest bit?

"I'll tell you what he did," Wolf said. "He put on his best bravado, told Peppy he was going to stop holding back, and told the hare to run. Something stupid about how how we'd all start targeting Peppy once he beat me. So the hare left, knowing full well that James was doomed, and I fell for the bait and went right into one more pass. Grazed his shields with one shot while he missed me by a mile, looped back around for another pass, and couldn't find him anymore. Never did. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late to do anything about it. He fired a smart bomb in that last pass, and missed me by a mile because he wasn't fucking aiming for me. He was clearing a path to Andross, even with just the fraction of a shield that he had left. I never got to finish him, and I don't even know what the hell happened. All I know is that neither of them were ready for what happened during their encounter. I never saw James again, and Andross, who'd been ranting about some freakish prototype since the day I met him in person… well… he was never the same, and I don't even know how to explain in full what I mean there."

Wolf's words hovered in the air. His grip on Fox's arm loosened just enough to stop hurting, as though his thoughts were concentrated elsewhere. It tightened back up as soon as Fox twitched and Wolf fell back to reality.

"I saw him," Fox declared.

"You saw...?"

"My father. You're going to tell me now," Fox said. "What did Andross say about his weapon? Tell me _everything_."

"Or what?"

"The last guy to piss me off over my parents was Andross. Remember what I did to him?"

Wolf drove his knee a bit harder into Fox's back. Sudden, sharp pain made Fox's world go fuzzy.

"Would you really do the same to me?" Wolf asked. "Even if you could?"

The answer was obvious! Of course he would!

Eventually, Wolf would slip up or let Fox free, and he'd pound Wolf's snout into broken bones and bloody mush for taking his father away from him. Wolf _had_ been involved in it after all, when Fox had finally settled on giving him the benefit of the doubt. If he'd known the full story, he'd have _landed_ after their first encounter, taken Wolf out of the wreckage of his downed ship, and repaid him in full nearly a decade ago.

"Bet-"

Wolf's free hand clamped Fox's mouth shut mid-word.

"Not so hasty," Wolf said. "Think about it. Think about what you've done to me. And think about what would've really happened after I pulled the trigger that one last time and downed your father's ship. How different are we?"

 _Night and day._

The hasty response was halted by interference in the form of two clamping fingers, so the meaning never escaped his lips. His inability to speak forced him to think harder before he spoke. He bitterly did as he was told and thought about Wolf's questions.

He'd shot Wolf down twice now. He'd not only had something to prove, but also a whole multi-planet system to carry in morale. Wolf had come at him as the renowned, invincible champion of Venom's fleet, a clear emblem of Andross's might. As he watched the ship fall, he knew he should kill Wolf right there… but he hadn't taken care of business, despite even Peppy's sage advice being to eliminate the threat while they had the chance.

Naturally, Fox hadn't listened, and they'd taken off without putting any of Star Wolf's crew mostly out of respect for fellow mercenary pilots. Part of Fox had even relished the fight, and that same part of him was thrilled when he realized they'd get to face off one more time at Venom.

That second time, while Fox had never told anyone, he _had_ landed to finish the job. And he'd considered putting Wolf down once and for all, since the first time apparently hadn't sent a clear enough message.

When it came down to it, Fox knew what would've happened if his father hadn't taken the fight straight to Andross and forced fate's hand. Wolf might very well have shot him down in that case, but neither he nor Fox would fire a killing blow on a worthy pilot. They both had too much joy in the dogfight-too much respect for a worthy opponent, and too strong a desire to meet again and push each other's limits one more time.

A whole minute passed. As Wolf released his mouth, Fox was forced to admit what he should've already known.

"We're the same," he said.

"Good," Wolf said.

Just like that, the fight was over. Wolf released Fox and situated himself back over on the other side of the bed. For a while, Fox didn't even get up, but he eventually sat back in his original position and found Wolf staring back up at the ceiling.

"So now you know," Wolf said. "Not so eager to be fucked now, are you?"

That wasn't the kind of thing Fox wanted to think about anymore. His father, in some form or another, was almost certainly still somewhere out there, probably trapped in some sort of spacial-temporal anomaly on Venom. The real villain was dead and completely inaccessible, but a legitimate culprit in his father's disappearance was still around, and had just told Fox a long overdue tale.

"I have a lot to think about," Fox replied.

Wolf sighed. Silence hung over them.

"You weren't supposed to be gay," Wolf finally said.

"Bi," Fox corrected.

"Available. Same difference to all the fucks I give," Wolf grumbled. "I wasn't supposed to pounce on it like this when I found out. We're landing in five hours, and now that you're an option, I can't even seem to stop myself from stirring up shit for that long. We were supposed to focus on the mission until it's over, and settle personal matters later. What the fuck did you do to me?"

Funny question coming from the guy who caught Fox on the rebound, seduced him easily over a few days, and then shook his whole world with news he should've heard years earlier.

"I need time alone to think," Fox said. "If I don't come to you an hour before landing, come get me. You have some things to brief me on, right?"

"Notes in a language the translator can barely handle," Wolf replied. "I've become decent at understanding the nonsense it spits out at me, though. Might not have mentioned it, but I've been orbiting this place for a damn long time. I'll explain what I know as well as I can. Four hours, and if I don't see you, I'm hunting you down."

That was as good of a note to leave on as Fox was likely to get with someone like Wolf. He got up and headed to the door.

"Sounds good," Fox said.

He left to piece his head back together. It wasn't until he arrived back in his room that he realized he'd left his clothes with Wolf, and he didn't feel like getting his scent, which was presently quite strong, all over the only newly washed pair he had.

He sighed as he sat on the bed. There was a lot he needed to do before they landed in five hours-eat, shower, nap, dress himself, and maybe… relieve himself of some of the day's sexual tension? He shook his head in bewilderment as he thought it over. Hadn't Wolf told him that they had fifteen hours? And that was less than an hour ago; they were supposed to land when the sun was just creeping over the horizon to minimize contact with alien life.

That all felt trivial in comparison to what he'd just been told, though. Wolf had been a villain after all, all those years ago; without him, it was very possible that Andross wouldn't have even had the chance to kill James McCloud. From the sound of things, his intentions weren't completely evil after all, but he was a major factor in taking Fox's father from him, and yet all these years later, Fox had wanted to let Wolf fuck him.

But perhaps his father wasn't so gone after all! Fox had seen him in person, right when Andross seemed to be trying… something weird? On him? Just like he'd done it to his father?

Venom remained largely mysterious and uninhabited following its defeat under Andross's rule. Maybe, somewhere in the wreckage, they could find some blueprints and figure out some way to retrieve James from whatever realm he was stuck in. Perhaps it was too late, but if anyone could figure it out, it'd be Slippy and Beltino. Fox didn't want to get his hopes up, but inwardly, he acknowledged that against all odds, there _was_ hope.

That was enough for a while. He willed thoughts of his father away, feeling somewhat exhausted. He could think about that later; for now, he needed to rest and prepare to keep up with Wolf on the ground.

He fell onto his bed and quickly fell asleep.


	6. To Terms

AN: Well, I'm posting this chapter instead of completely scrapping it, mostly because it's been way too long since I made an update. I didn't consider this chapter to be entirely necessary, but for those of you who've been waiting on this, and especially for those of you who've been nice enough to make me feel like this damn thing was worth writing after all, I feel I should post it rather than scrapping the whole thing. I've been feeling pretty down lately, both about this fic, and in general. However, I swore I'd finish this fic, and I'm going to do it eventually, so don't worry about that. I've just been finding it harder and harder to get motivated, and this chapter got decidedly less effort than I've put out for previous chapters. I'm sorry, to all of you guys who notice, for letting you down. Thanks all the same for reading, and hopefully I can step it up for just a little while longer while I finish this thing up.

To everyone who's given me reviews, thank you. You don't know how much it means, just knowing that you actually cared enough to finish the chapter.

As always, expect FFN to screw up formatting things that I frankly don't feel like fixing until I've finished writing this whole damn fic.

* * *

Three unwelcome knocks, a pause, and then Wolf's voice.

"Open up, Fox."

Fox had been somewhere between waking up and getting out of bed for a while now. He knew it was time, but after his dream, he just didn't want to have to move.

He'd had the dream again where his father led him out of Andross's base, after which he searched all over Venom for the Arwing he'd followed to safety, never finding his father no matter how hard he looked.

It didn't turn out the usual way, to Fox's confusion. Instead of combing the surface of the inhospitable planet in his dream while he fidgeted in his sleep, dream-Fox spotted a crash site down on the surface of Venom.

Four downed Wolfens had crashed on the surface, all of them clearly totaled, some still engulfed in flames. They'd all been evacuated, but beside one of them was a still figure that Fox would've probably shot on sight, had it not been for recent events presenting him with a few good reasons to hold off.

Fox had landed his Arwing before he even realized it was happening-one of the sorts of time-skips that frequently happened in these dreams, where he couldn't even realize how something had happened when he tried to think back on it. As he got out, his old rival wouldn't even acknowledge him.

It was strange, because at this point, Fox was fully aware of being in a dream. Here he was, in his present-day mid-twenties body, talking to a past-days Wolf who seemed to be about his age, if not younger. Below the downed lupine's eyes, the fur was still wet with tears. He did his best not to show what Fox already knew.

"I didn't know what I was doing." After a pronounced silence, he gulped, turning away from Fox. His voice was gruff as ever, but he sounded as though he might break back out in tears at any time. "I can't blame you if you don't believe me, but I fucked up. I'm sorry."

Wolf's words echoed with vulnerability that permeated throughout the whole space. Fox found the silence hard to answer, and he even started to feel bad for him.

There he was, weeping and making the kind of full-on apology Wolf O'Donnell didn't even seem capable of. It felt like this defeated, weeping pilot wasn't really Wolf, and yet beneath the weeping was the same acuity, volatility, and sharpness that Fox had become increasingly familiar with over their time together.

"Bet your ass you fucked up," Fox growled, not wanting to soften.

Somehow, he immediately felt bad. He didn't want to be this harsh. Stranger still, Wolf's apology actually seemed sincere enough to where Fox felt he just might be in the wrong after all for trying to kick the lupine while he was down.

Fox leaned against his Arwing, leaving Wolf to wallow in regret and self-pity beside his own crashed ship. By the time Wolf finally joined him, Fox had softened, even though his anger over his father's fate was still fresh in his heart.

"I still hate him," Wolf said. "I still haven't forgiven him. But if I'd known you, even for a little while, I'd have changed my plan and waited for you instead."

"What are you-"

"I wish I could show you just what I saw, because you'd understand if you could see it in the skies, the way I saw it. You shot me down, and suddenly I get it. Suddenly I know just how shitty it was to take your dad from you, even if he was a fucking asshole. I wish I could go back in time and work with you instead of trying to make him change his mind. You, me, and maybe that bird and my buddy Panther, if the price was right. We could've been the best team the world had ever seen," Wolf declared, his voice rising all the while until he finally let the last words hang.

Silence followed, and then the sound of Wolf fidgeting in his pockets. Before Fox even looked over, Wolf had a gun drawn on him. Rather than firing it, though, Wolf held it out to Fox, and Fox grabbed it by reflex.

"Can't change the past. I'll have to ask for an apology instead," Wolf said, placing his temple at the barrel of the gun. "I'm sorry to say this is the best I could come up with. Pull the trigger, McCloud, and forgive me. It's only fair."

That was where the dream abruptly ended.

In an instant, before Fox could even consider the choice presented before him, his eyes snapped open and the whole Venom scene was gone. He hadn't been fidgeting in his sleep, to his surprise; really, he'd been soundly asleep even through such a trying dream, and his eyes sprung open without provocation. And from there, he sat in the strange state of near-stasis in which the real-life Wolf found him.

Something metal made a clicking noise, and Wolf, protecting his decency with nothing but a pair of purple-pink briefs that showed a little too much bulge, entered through the door Fox would've sworn he'd locked.

"Wake your lazy ass up!" Wolf called, only to make eye contact with the fully awake pilot who sat up in his bed, bare-chested with his lower half covered by sheets. For once, there was no morning wood beneath the sheets, but Wolf snorted all the same. "Well, then. Caught you in the middle of something?"

"Just woke up from a nap," Fox grumbled, not bothering to deny what Wolf wanted to imply. "What's so important that you had to wake me up?"

"Landing," Wolf replied.

It caught Fox off guard. _Too_ off guard, especially considering that he'd been falsely promised fifteen hours of time not too long ago.

Fortunately, Wolf wasn't done.

"That look on your face tells me I owe you some explanations," Wolf said. "For one, landing without warning you hours in advance. Somehow, the door to that damn temple has opened on its own, and the bomb I planted to bust it open won't be necessary. It's probably already got some unwanted pests, but if we wait until night ends, we're going to have critters crawling up our asses in the morning. And it's not safe to assume I mean that as a figure of speech."

Fox winced at the thought.

"Did you _have_ to pick a planet full of this kind of weird shit?" Fox griped.

"Eh, complain all you want," Wolf dismissed. "But try telling me there's nothing here that you want up your ass."

Fox growled beneath his breath. Wolf's relative cool, considering how bad things could get with the local fauna, was starting to get unnerving.

"This isn't a good time for jokes, Wolf," Fox barked.

"Got that right," Wolf replied wistfully. His ears retreated against the frame of his skull. "You know, I had some difficulties while I was here that had nothing to do with you. There are certain things I don't handle well, so I wanted you to see as little as of the wildlife here as I could get away with. It wasn't just because things here are dangerous. With a little luck, I won't have to explain myself and we'll be out of here in a few hours. But I'm making damn sure that my silence doesn't end up costing one of us our lives today. Look me in the eyes, pup."

Fox obliged, staring at one purple eye and one green-screened interface over where his other eye used to be. Wolf wore a menacing scowl.

"I'm saying this again, because I don't want you getting yourself killed down there. If anyone's going to tan your hide it's gonna be me. Play it careful while we're down there."

Fox snorted. The threat had never quite felt this funny, to the point where it seemed empty.

"You think you actually _could_ tan my hide, really?" Fox taunted. "How many more times do you think I'll shoot you down before that happens? I think I'll be the one who ends you, if that's how it goes."

He was stepping into dangerous waters here, and he knew it. Wolf was probably the most dangerous opponent he'd ever faced, and when they'd last face off on Sargasso, Fox really hadn't been all too confident of getting the better of Wolf by the time his old rival decided to call a ceasefire. But here, while he'd gone this far out of his way to help Wolf pay off the bounty that was still ruining his life, serious antagonism between them seemed preposterous enough for Fox to return it with mockery.

"I _could_ tan your hide, and I'm planning on it someday, whether or not we end up fucking each other day and night for the rest of time," Wolf replied. "There's bare floor at the foot of my bed where I've been planning to put the rug since before we met." Fox's eyes widened a bit when he realized that there really _was_ a conspicuous space in Wolf's room. He hoped that Wolf had just made that up on the spot, but it was impossible to see any hint of insincerity in his rival's face. "I have faith that the chance will come. I've still got plenty of time and patience."

"You're nine years older than me," Fox countered. "At some point, you'll be past your prime. Keep picking fights with me, and you'll mess up a crash landing before too long, and that'll be the end."

Wolf shook his head, beaming at Fox.

"Three years older, pup," he said.

"Like hell," Fox shot back. "You're thirty-five."

"You're twenty-six. I'm twenty-nine," Wolf said firmly.

"You were twenty-seven when I was eighteen," Fox said, recalling the Lylat Wars era.

"Said Andross, because you can't have the backbone of your army be some pilot who's twenty-one and fresh out of school," Wolf replied. "Speaking of which, recall that I was three years ahead of your class, too. Did it not seem suspicious?"

He should've known that one. He should've at least tried to correct Corneria's records, rather than letting them override his own knowledge. It was only too typical that the lies would be trusted, covering up his surprisingly numerous redeeming qualities, but that was Wolf's life in a nutshell. Not even half the villain he was made out to be, and yet still stuck with the highest bounty for an at-large criminal in the whole system. And Fox had never done anything about it until now, months after Wolf had saved his life twice.

"Shit," Fox grumbled.

"Kind of reminds me, though," Wolf said. "And this could take a while. Hope you don't mind if I make myself comfortable."

The lupine sauntered over to the side of Fox's bed, sat down, and rested his head on Fox's chest as though he were just a pillow. Fox succeeded at suppressing a surprising erection at half mast.

"What the hell?" Fox protested.

"This planet. There are things you should know, but don't," Wolf continued, ignoring his protest. Fox didn't have the persistence or even, admittedly, any desire at all to push the gray canid off of his chest. "First, smell is the medium. That's how things communicated here. The non-written language of intelligent life here that wasn't Venomian, Cornerian, Saurian, or anything in between. Speech was always smell, and the little things responsible are still all up in the air, giving us funny dreams and carrying our thoughts back and forth between each other. I don't know what kinds of weird things you have or haven't seen or felt, but since we've been breathing this place's air for a few hours, there's probably been something."

"Communication through smell? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Fox replied. "I call bullshit."

In light of his dream, though, it couldn't be a lie. He'd… seen into Wolf's mind? Just a peek? And Wolf was way more troubled over their past than he'd ever have let on? Definitely more troubled than he let on, if that was any indicator.

"Your thoughts aren't as hard to access as you probably think," Wolf replied. "Especially since we have so much in common. But humor me here, if you really need convincing. Compare thought-reading airborne fungi to a blue vulpine telepath pilot joining Team Star Fox, and tell me you still can't believe it."

There was stranger to Sauria than just Krystal, who he really didn't want to discuss here. Fox thought to bring up more about Sauria, like carrying Krazoa Spirits around in his body, and how he'd glowed from their intensity. It really wouldn't help his case.

"Bah," Fox conceded.

Wolf nodded, his head rubbing abrasively against Fox's bare chest. Wolf grinned at Fox's irritation.

"Second," Wolf said. "Like I hinted, we've just about landed, hovering a few miles over the landing zone right now. I wanted to wait, but I think there'd be hell to pay now that the wall's been breached. Thought it'd take a bomb to open it up, but it looks like those turrets we destroyed were pretty damn important for keeping the temple intact after all. Something's been to this place now, and it's strong enough to break the stone."

A chill went down Fox's spine. Wolf left those last few words in the air with dread thick enough to cut into with a steak knife, as though he knew more than he dared to say.

But when he thought about it, Wolf was making a pretty ridiculous proposition. Here they were, two mercenary _pilots_ , about to risk their asses on a dangerous ground mission. This wasn't their job or their expertise, even if Fox had had a whole Sauria expedition to prepare, and Wolf's lack of background in this kind of thing actually made Fox wonder why he hadn't managed to object sooner.

"Well, I hate to suggest it," Fox said, "but we should go back to Corneria right now and find my old pal Slippy. He and his dad are both pretty good at coming up with specific machinery for whatever task I might have. If there's something that dangerous, we ought to come back with better preparation."

Fox nearly had a flashback to a few of his conversations with the late General Pepper, where the old hound had given him a bunch of missions that he'd never have been equipped for, had he accepted them. Thankfully, the only such thing he'd ever tried was taking down Andross, for which he'd spent months preparing. Such was the nature of Fox's world, though; everyone expected him to be able to pull off miracles, and sometimes, he had to talk sense into them.

Wolf snorted bitterly, to Fox's surprise, not shaken at all.

"Listen to you," Wolf harrumphed. "Thinking Corneria would let me within a hundred thousand miles of its orbit without money in hand to pay my bounty off. You know something? We're gonna have to do this on the ground, or there's no guarantee it'll happen at all. I bet you haven't even heard a word from your toad friend over the last two months? Care to tell me otherwise?"

Wolf sounded so confident, so smug, that Fox wanted to slap him. And worse still, he was right; Slippy had sent a long email out of the blue about being absorbed in his work with his father, and Fox hadn't even been able to get a response from him in months since then.

"What makes you say that?"

Wolf sniffed the air conspicuously, loud enough to make himself extra conspicuous.

"Call it a hunch, and let me know if you have any similar hunches," he replied. Fox rolled his eyes at the lupine's theatrics. "Anyway. Third. Apologizing."

"For which thing?" Fox sneered. "Or are you planning to run down the whole laundry list?"

"Guess," Wolf replied.

"Hard to pick just one," Fox replied. "It's a long list."

Wolf snorted at that, raised his head off of Fox's body, and established eye contact with the vulpine. One hand thumped into the pillow beside Fox's head, only inches from his neck, and Wolf leaned in close.

"You want to talk long laundry lists, pup?" he replied. "You shot me down twice and left me to be labeled a criminal lunatic. You came out to my hideout right when I thought I was back on my feet, and you blew most of it to hell, then just about blew me up one last time before I called a ceasefire and when I thought you were just being reasonable in accepting, you listened because you needed information. Then after I saved your ass twice, you finally repaid me by rushing your old mentor out to the hospital and not checking up on me at all, or clearing my name with Corneria. Sure, you're here to throw me a bone now. But have I asked for a single fucking apology from you? We're nemeses, pup! We don't apologize for the shit we did to each other. Just because I want to fuck you doesn't mean there's any need to paint the past in a less shitty light."

Wolf had a point. Fox had done some terrible things to Wolf's life, and while it was mostly out of necessity, it was hard to deny that Wolf deserved better. And what had he done to Fox, other than lose a few dogfights?

That answer had recently become obvious, and was swirling around in Fox's head. Still, he could take the high road and acknowledge his wrongs.

"You should hear it anyway," Fox said. "I'm sorry for what I did to your life. I'm sorry for being the cause of so much of your misfortune, without ever meaning ill to you. Way back before we were rivals, I kind of hoped we could be friends."

Without warning, Wolf's free hand reached back and placed itself on Fox's chest. It crawled downward, reaching beneath the blankets, tracing slowly down Fox's belly all the way down. It crept slowly along his contours. The anticipation was too much for him to resist, and his erection was on in full force by the time Wolf's hand closed around the member and held there, deliberating what to do next.

Fox whined, begging for Wolf to take it further.

"If I haven't told you this by now, pup, I should have," Wolf replied. "It's true for more reasons than I can list. We can _never_ be friends."

Wolf's grip squeezed a few times, then abruptly released, and he threw both hands behind his head, leaning himself back on the bed against the wall. He cringed and examined one hand up close, squinting.

"Damn it, pup. I'd fuck you to tears right now if there were time. You're leaking."

Fox groaned, a little surprised at how little shame he felt in his arousal toward the guy he still partly blamed for his father's demise. He saw the lupine's tempting smirk and recalled his recent dream, and he wondered why they'd ever had to be enemies. It was looking more and more promising to just let the past go and let Wolf have his way with him.

"Next time, if you can't follow through, how about acknowledging my apology?" Fox replied.

"Nah. Got my own apology to make," Wolf said. "Probably not on your laundry list, though. I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark. Didn't think we'd end up in a position where it's important, but I have personal reasons for keeping some information to myself."

"Think you could let me know those reasons?" Fox interjected.

"No." The reply was firm and immediate. "But I'll tell you what you _should_ know. There's a pictographic language down in the structure, written by an intelligent race that doesn't seem to be around anymore. My universal translator can only make crude attempts at decoding it, but after a lot of practice, I can make some sense of the mess it gives me."

Fox began to feel the sort of chill that tends to precede some unwelcome news.

"Anything important so far?"

All he could recall so far was that the place had a lot of gold hidden away somewhere, and Wolf was determined to get to it. The fine print could bring plenty of complications, though…

Fox braced himself.

"No," Wolf said. Fox breathed a sigh of relief. "But the creatures down there respond to loud noises."

"So?" Fox shot back, snorting. "So does everything. We already knew that, right?"

"It means we might actually have to _solve_ our way through the place instead of blowing up doors like I'd originally planned."

"And how is this not something you've already prepared for?" Fox growled.

"Beforehand, the sound would've had to travel through stone to get to anything dangerous," Wolf replied. "Now, the door is wide open and there's probably a lot inside already. The quietest way to get through this place is probably the best. There's some huge, terrible stuff down there, and we don't want to fuck with any of it."

Fox's eyes went wide at the mention of large, terrible things. Flashbacks came back of some very, very unpleasant scenarios. Sauria played itself out just a little bit too vividly. He took a deep breath, but it didn't help. It was out of his control at this point.

Fox sat straight up. He grabbed Wolf by the fur of his chest, yanking him closer with a tug so sharp that the surprised lupine grimaced. The surprise on his face made him almost look more like an overgrown lost puppy than the most feared, battle-hardened mercenary criminal known to Lylat.

"DAMN it, Wolf!" he exclaimed. "If I get eaten alive one more time, I don't give a fuck what I have to do! I'm ripping you limb from limb, even if I have to come back from hell to do it! You hear me? This was _your_ shitty plan gone wrong, and you're taking all the blame if this ends up like Sauria!"

Wolf blinked a few times, disarmed by even deeper confusion. Under any other circumstances, Fox would've found it surprisingly adorable and wanted to hug him.

"Seriously? Did you just say eaten alive?" Wolf managed to ask. He spoke again with a little more confidence. "Fox, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I still get nightmares from that shit!" Fox yelled, shouting his words directly at his rival's increasingly bewildered face. "You know what it's like slithering down some creature's throat, feeling stomach acid seep into your fur, hacking away with the staff you're lucky enough to keep until the fucking thing is forced to cough you up!?"

Fox remembered it well. The lining of the creature's throat was easy to tear with his staff, but too much slashing would kill it, and then there would be no way to get back up. He had to hurt it. He had to hurt it so badly that it couldn't stand swallowing him any further.

The threat of suffocating, and of imminent death should the creature prefer a torn through to coughing Fox back up, had come back over Fox in full force.

Amazingly, Wolf did all the right things for someone in a frenzy, which Fox would've thought himself a fool to expect. He didn't challenge the power Fox had seized over the situation, and he gave a bit of time to think through what he said next before letting it out.

"Fox… I'm not the poster boy for mental health," Wolf said. "But have you tried talking to a therapist about all this?"

Fox took some more deep breaths. He nearly erupted again in outrage, because the memories were just a little too vivid and the threat of something similar seemed pretty real. Even though the Sauria reward money was the only thing that had saved him from having to default on the Great Fox, and even though he'd put down Andross, the _real_ reason his father was dead, once and for all, no amount of money or satisfaction was really worth what he went through over the course of his time on that planet of dinosaurs.

"I have," Fox admitted somewhat reluctantly. He let Wolf go, and after shaking off the confusion of what he'd just been subjected to, the lupine leaned back against the wall, as nonchalant as before. Fox thought to talk about just how much therapy had helped, and just how little it helped, but instead he shook his head and cleared his throat. "Look, forget I said anything. Some things are tough to get over."

"You're telling me," Wolf replied.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fox challenged.

"Probably just what you think," Wolf said. "Which is none of your business."

"You're lucky," Fox said. "I'm letting that slide for now because you still have something important to tell me, and I'd like to head it now more than I'd like to pry into your personal life."

"I might regret admitting it, but that was it," Wolf replied. "No easy mode for this trip, and there's nothing more for me to say just now. We might have riddles to solve down there, or we might not. Definitely going to have things to fend off all over the place, because there's not just the one hole in the wall. Aside from that, and the mind-reading fungi in the air, I know little more than you do."

Fox sighed. He wasn't quite sure what had him more peeved-the fact that he had an even longer day ahead of him than expected, or the fact that _this_ was Wolf's idea of an apology. Another infodump and a bit of teasing was probably what he should've expected, but he'd let Wolf get his hopes up.

"Alright. Let's get this over with, then," Fox said.

"Not like there's much choice. We land in a few minutes," Wolf replied. He gave a smirk, leaned over Fox, and abruptly poked his bare belly, prompting a sharp recoil and frantic swatting. "Get dressed, yeah?"

Fox sat up, grimacing, and set his hand on Wolf's ass, just as out of the blue as Wolf had been. It was firm through the bright-colored fabric of his underwear, making him wish he'd made a bit more ballsy of a gesture in more ways than one. Wolf didn't flinch, his smile spreading just a little wider instead.

"You're one to talk," Fox said, though he accepted that he'd fallen short and this round was over.

"Decided I'd treat you rather than showing up in my combat gear," Wolf snorted. "Try to complain."

The lupine pivoted his weight back and got off the bed, stopping at the door on his way out.

"Careful. I might," Fox replied.

"If you say so, pup," Wolf said. "Just make sure to eat something and meet me in the hangar in fifteen minutes. Could be a long day."


	7. Resolve P1

AN: This chapter is one of the two things that I had planned out in great detail from before I even decided on writing this fic all the way out. It's been a long time since then, so I don't think I can feel fully satisfied with the results. I feel as though no amount of revision is going to give me _exactly_ what I'm going for, though, and I'd like to think that I've at least managed to come close.

That all aside, this chapter in particular has been a mountain, and I've finally climbed it. This was probably the biggest deterrent to finishing this fic, and there are either three or four more parts (including the second part of this chapter), depending on how badly I feel a certain scene needs to happen once I'm done with the next chapter. The second part of this chapter is complete, will be posted within a week, and is very difficult for me to air publicly because it's the part of this fic where I prove my mettle and earn the right to write the next fic I have in mind, which I'm still on the fence about even though I'm sort of in love with the idea.

Enough of that.

I'd like to take this time to thank everyone for hanging on and continuing to read this fic in spite of my slow, slow progress. Special thanks to Jaslazul for being a freaking jackass (you da bess), my boyfriend for frequently reminding me that I'm a big dumb rudderbutt (otter) with no self-control, and some other guy (who knows who he is) for being my beta reader on this part and providing me with a whole ton of feedback.

Also, huge thanks to all the reviewers and note-senders for just chiming in. It seriously makes my day when I see that someone cared enough to tell me what they think of my story. I really appreciate all of you, and as thanks, I'll _try_ to get back to updating more than once a month until this fic is over. Emphasis on _try_ , because I'm going to two furry conventions (Midwest Furfest and Further Confusion) in the next two months (and btw, if you're going to be at either of those, ping me and let's get lunch or something! I don't bite!).

Apologies in advance for a bit of a cliffhanger. The resolution will come soon. I promise.

* * *

It was like nothing he'd ever seen.

That wasn't to say, of course, that the interior was especially impressive, with plain stone walls that had patches of some slow-growing mold intermittently spaced over their alien runes. Rather, there was just nothing quite like it in all the universe that Fox or Wolf had seen thus far. Corneria, Zoness, Sauria, Fichina… the list could go on, and there was nothing quite like it.

The builders displayed what seemed to be genius, and also what seemed to be total stupidity. From the seemingly unnecessary, overly dense lines of turrets on the roof to the ridiculously thick walls that had somehow still been cracked, little of the place made sense. It seemed stupidly failure-proof, and yet it had stupidly failed.

The first large room of the interior was a half-circle in shape and, of course, crowded with indigenous flying creatures that had recently made their way indoors. Fox was just a little too quick to remember his Sauria days, and reached into his coat, grabbing the weapon his hands yearned for. Wolf drew his blaster in turn, and it took the sight of its barrel for Fox to remember that he wasn't locked by proxy in the stone age anymore. He reached for his own gun.

"They still haven't noticed us," Wolf said softly. He sat on one side of the doorway, while Fox sat on the other. "Looks like there are ten. Your call here. Shoot a few down while they're unaware, or lure them to us and take advantage of the doorway?"

Fox drew his blaster and set it to medium charge rather than the usual stun setting. He pointed it at the swarm in the room ahead and grimaced.

"I've got the one on the far right."

Both canids shot, and the shots hit their marks. Two shrieks sounded, and two pasty, fleshy, batlike creatures fell from the sky.

The remaining creatures scattered, with some retreating into deeper corridors and others frantically flapping about the room. Fox tried and failed to follow one's trajectory with his gun and found himself a little dizzy. For their size, with a wingspan longer than the span of Fox's arms, the creatures were uncannily quick.

"Ain't taking the bait," Wolf grumbled, and he fired a few more shots.

One creature fell, but three others were unscathed, and had passed through the door in an instant, before Fox could even think to prime his gun for another shot.

Reflexes kicked in as the creatures circled around in the tall, long, narrow room that he and Wolf had entered to start the day's excursion. He shifted his head just out of the way of a hellish bat creature's closing fangs, swatting it away with the back of his free hand and earning a satisfying cry.

Wolf fired a few shots, but the disadvantage of his weapon choice was starting to show; each shot took almost a second to fire, and in that kind of time, his target wasn't really lined up. Fox experienced the same problem, but just as he thought to change the settings back to stun and make do, he heard the sound of shredding flesh and realized that one of the creatures, all of which now circled them in a storm of chaos, had been punished by Wolf's bayonet for coming too close.

Fox snarled and drew the metal rod out of his coat pocket. With a flick of his wrist, it was just as long as the staff he'd used on Sauria. With the click of a button, blades emerged from the edges.

As much as he'd tried to pretend otherwise since the Sauria excursion ended, Fox missed the opportunity to really let loose like this.

It was over not long after it started. Blades tore through wings and all other manner of flesh with disturbing ease. One fell, and then another. His sharp reflexes caught them all before they were even near him, and his staff clipped the less aggressive members of the swarm with ease now that his weapon responded as quickly as he could swing his arm.

Within half a minute, an assortment of dead bat-creatures was all that remained of the swarm. Shreds of vibrant red flesh littered the floor, and corpses dripped a thick white pus that foamed as the bodies secreted it.

"Holy shit, pup," Wolf said, shaking his head like a hungover frat boy who'd just sat up too quickly. "Where the hell did you pick that up?"

Fox shook some guts off of the blades, reluctantly detaching them and putting them back in his flight suit pocket. He _really_ didn't want his flesh to come into contact with the goop the blades carried, but it was a preferable risk to leaving his melee weapon behind and continuing with the blaster he'd intended to use in the first place.

"Didn't think I did ground combat?" Fox replied.

"I didn't think you were a stone cold killer," Wolf replied. "I've seen Leon do some pretty fucked up things, but I've never seen him cut anything down the way you just did. Never made it look that easy, either."

Fox shrugged. Part of him had hoped he'd never have to show this to Wolf-let his rival assume that raw strength would be enough to overpower him with if he so chose, let Wolf get cocky, and surprise him if it ever became necessary.

He'd figured a secret like his melee training could save his life someday, but the cat was out of the bag now. All he could do was milk it and see how much satisfaction he could glean from Wolf's responses.

"You swam, and you have a build to show for it," Fox said. "I didn't do sports, but I didn't exactly stay idle either. I took some extra classes until the war forced me to drop out. Three years of aikido back in high school, then two years of mixed martial arts and one year of classes on using a bo staff while I was training as a pilot."

Wolf chuckled, crossing his arms and looking wistfully downward.

"And to think I tried telling you not to hesitate," he sighed. "I must have misjudged. Doesn't look like you needed it at all."

It was tempting to tell Wolf that he'd _definitely_ needed that advice, and that those words had been the difference between falling for the Aparoid Queen's illusions and seeing right through them. With blood rushing through Fox's head the way it only could during ground missions, and with the open space and the many corridors threatening him with their contents, though, the thanks could wait for another time.

He stayed quiet until Wolf went on.

"Anyway, guard my back while I check out these walls."

Wolf took out a device that Fox soon recognized as Wolf's universal translator. He carried it over to the wall, pointed it at some of the many glyphs that adorned the stone, and began a surprisingly long process.

Based on what Fox started to see, the translator only took one or two words in at a time. Sometimes, the screen would show the word in question, and Wolf would say the word softly to himself, sounding pensive or agitated. Other times, the device would flash several words at a time, and Wolf would utter a word beneath his breath that seemed completely unrelated.

In his focus, he paid Fox no attention, nor did he acknowledge the echoes of something knocking against stone off in the distance.

Left on its own, Fox's mind started to wander to dangerous places. Here, in the midst of hostile ground with Wolf O'Donnell right in front of him, he had every opportunity to shoot the son of a bitch, and in past situations of this sort, that was almost always what he'd had to do. It crossed his mind that he could take the easy target just one more time, and the same feeling of relief as always would come over him.

Except, no; it fucking wouldn't, and he needed to get his mind out of the past and into the present.

Almost two minutes had passed with nothing from Wolf, and Fox wasn't very happy with where his mind was heading.

"Anything so far?" Fox asked.

It seemed fair to ask for an update, though Wolf still seemed quite transfixed with his study of the same three lines of glyphs.

Wolf held up a finger and said a rather unwelcome slew of words.

"Kill, murder, snuff, die," Wolf muttered. He pointed off to his right. "So they don't distinguish very well between the past and the present, and that's making this really difficult. On the one hand, this is a burial site. On the other, there's a fuckton of treasure, and I can't tell whether or not this wall is saying that the burial site is the same as the ritual sacrifice site on the opposite end of this place."

Ritual sacrifice?

Fox tried to sputter some words, but it didn't go very well. He cleared his throat and gave it another shot, with substantially better results.

"This place is a _what_ , now?" Fox asked. "Would it have killed you to relay some of this to me as you parsed through?"

Wolf cringed, then pursed his lips and took a deep breath.

"A ritual sacrifice site, and a tomb for… I'm not sure who, exactly," Wolf replied irritably. "And would it have killed me? Damn near it. Hate to break it to you, pup, but I've only been here for about two months, and this translating business is hard."

Muffled echoes of some very loud thumps carried to Fox's ears, leaving an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He hoped that maybe some stone had just fallen, by some strange fluke, or after being dislodged by something small.

"Well hurry it up!" Fox snapped. His anxiety was starting to become unbearable-worse than he'd felt on Sauria, somehow. "I don't want to be a sitting duck over here!"

"Think I'm comfortable?" Wolf replied. "If anything makes its way to us, my back is to it all. Trust me on this one, tough as that may be. If anyone hates being here right now more than you do, it's me."

Fox considered just how much he _hated_ this place. Sauria had some frighteningly large creatures that could've squashed him like a little bug, and that was enough to make Fox regret taking the job several times before he finally managed to finally get it over with. But this was like Sauria would've been if everything were loaded with neurotoxins and venomous alien animals, and things that for all he know might grow weird tofu-flesh over his fur.

"I find that difficult to believe," Fox said.

Wolf turned back to Fox, his face snarling. There was something primal about the hostility in his eye. His breathing was an odd kind of heavy, not unlike what a cornered mouse might show.

"Believe it."

Fox _did_ believe it, all of a sudden, and considering just how strong his anxiety was, he wasn't rightly sure why. He could rightly _feel_ Wolf's loathing of the place, and also an odd dread of something horrible and familiar.

He thought back to what Wolf had told him earlier about something in the air conveying thoughts back and forth, and wondered if he might be picking up Wolf's anxiety from them. It worried him, though, that he inexplicably felt as though something terrible was going to happen, and he felt more terrified of this place than he could justify to himself rationally.

Thinking about it made him shudder, though. If that were really the case, then the alien life had already made its way inside of Fox's body and established itself firmly enough to influence his brain.

At least nothing had swallowed him yet.

"Alright," Fox said with fake resignation. "So what do we do? Read some more glyphs?"

Wolf sighed.

"Yeah right. Last thing I want to do right now is fry my brain some more," he scoffed. "Think I've figured out as much as I'm going to. This is looking like a coin toss to me."

"Coin toss?"

Wolf pointed down one of the broad rectangular hallways.

"That's heads, and that there," he said, pointing down another hallway toward the opposite end of the first, "is tails. One is a mausoleum, and probably has plenty of buried treasure. The other is a sacrificial altar. Either one might just fuck our shit up in ways we can't foresee, but I don't know which is which. Think you could lend me a coin? I'm sort of broke."

"Seriously, Wolf, I'd rather not gamble with our lives," Fox said. "What do we do, if not read some more glyphs? Take a leap in the dark?"

The thumping sound from before returned, but this time, it was _much_ louder. Fox felt panic rush over him, and his breaths became shallow as his eyebrows raised. The reaction was completely involuntary, and to make matters worse, the noise didn't stop.

Not one, not two, but three _loud_ booms echoed from the first hallway Wolf had indicated, each one slightly louder than the last. Two things were for certain: whatever caused it was slowly getting closer, and the source of that noise had to be positively enormous.

Neither canid had to say it. They both made for the second option, walking as quickly and silently as they could through the stone-roofed entryway. They'd figure out whether or not it led to treasure soon enough; for now, staying alive sounded much easier if they didn't walk directly toward the source of a loud echoing thud.

The corridor, wide and grandiose as it was, littered with writing, coiled on for a good distance. It wound around, curving several times and dipping low before going back high, never actually presenting Fox or Wolf with a room to stop in.

A few more flying creatures fluttered about, and were easily caught unawares and terminated by blaster shots. As the canids advanced further in, the density of creatures decreased, which seemed to be a good sign overall.

"Plain ground," Fox commented after what seemed to be a quarter mile of hallway that all seemed to be the same.

He couldn't stop feeling on edge. His nerves were absolutely _killing_ him, and the source of the noise from before made him feel faint every time it crept back into his head. He felt powerless-as though he was doomed for certain if that thing happened to seek him out and somehow catch up to him.

"Couldn't tell you where this leads or when it stops," Wolf replied, turning a corner just in time to see something or another that prompted him to growl.

Fox rounded the corner as well and rolled his eyes.

Finally, they'd found a room instead of more hallway.

"Treasure!" Wolf exclaimed, zipping across the room to an ornately carved wall.

That got Fox's hopes up, and his ears pointed right up at the lightly cracked ceiling. Rather than grabbing anything valuable that might not have registered in Fox's head yet, though, Wolf pulled out his translator and pointed it at the wall until words came.

There was nothing in the room that looked at all like treasure. Wolf had only seen a glyph and given them both what seemed to be false hope.

"Damn it, Wolf," Fox grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Don't get my hopes up like that just because you see a word."

Wolf growled beneath his breath, muttering words far more quickly than before, too softly for Fox to hear, blending them in with the agitated rumbling of his throat. With the kind of frantic energy Wolf's words held, Fox half expected to see the gray tail wagging.

"Alcove," Wolf grumbled with suppressed energy. He pressed on the wall before him until a large stone happened to slide back with surprising ease, revealing exactly what Wolf had predicted. The hole it left was large enough for either pilot to climb through, and Wolf put his head through to examine their find.

Fox came forward to inspect it as well, his pulse starting to race as he waited on Wolf. If Wolf had been right when he chose this place, there just might be more gold than he'd seen in his whole life.

"This is-" Fox stammered.

He couldn't complete the sentence, because he didn't know what he was looking at. Some sort of hexagonal contraption with a colored circular center and an alternating pattern of raised and sunken metal trapezoid shapes on each of the six sides. There were a dozen of them, each small enough to comfortably fit into a pocket.

"Don't play with them," Wolf warned. "Sounds like they're valuable, but I don't know what they do because there's really only time to skim the text. I have a picture of this wall to decipher later. We're taking all ten of these things, and if there's no gold at the end of this path, we run back to the ship, fly out of this fucking place, and see what we can get off of what we've found so far. Sound fair?"

"Kind of," Fox replied. "I'd really like to come back here later in the Landmaster and nuke this whole damn place."

Thoughts about those echoing booms still filled Fox with dread as Wolf pocketed the devices, stuffing them into the large pockets along each side of his vest. It seemed that neither of them felt quite as anxious now, but the worry still persisted in the back of his mind, and he wasn't quite sure why.

Suddenly, though, he was fully aware of just why he felt the dread he did. Fox shook his own head in disbelief, wondering why he hadn't known it before.

He didn't want to give Wolf any warning. The move had to be silent and unforeseen.

The barrel of Fox's gun pressed against the back of Wolf's head, and he gave the lupine a curt warning.

"Don't move," he said firmly. "You're going to tell me what you're holding back. You know what made those sounds back in the main room, and you haven't told me yet. You know how I know?"

Wolf snorted in derision.

"The fucking spores," he said. "They must not like talking to you if you still have to ask me anything. Guess they haven't sent you an image yet, huh?"

"Afraid not," Fox replied. "No images. Just a whole hell of a lot of fear and aggression right from you. I was hoping you might care to tell me why."

"Maybe," Wolf replied. "My answer would be a story. It'd take a dangerously long time, and you already know to run from large, hostile things. If the spores don't share it with you while we walk, I'll tell you while we walk back. I'd bet I won't have to tell you. I've seen your memories of being swallowed, burned, and nearly stomped flat by giant reptiles. I've seen some other shit from you, too. These airborne things talk a lot if you listen."

Wolf reached up and pushed the gun gently away from his head with a slow motion, then snatched it with a sharp yank, looking Fox directly in the eyes the whole time as he overpowered him.

Fox, refusing to fire but also refusing to let the weapon go, had his arm twisted behind his back before he even processed the approach Wolf was trying to take. He found himself mercifully shoved from behind so that he fell lightly and was able to catch himself with his hands, and Wolf was left with the blaster.

"But let's not get started. Let's get us both out of here alive and then we can talk without fungal weirdness," Wolf said, tossing the weapon back to Fox. "And don't try a move like that again. As long as we're here, I can tell when your threats are empty."

Wolf was assuming that the so-called _fungal weirdness_ would ever wear off… which Fox was starting to suspect might never fully be the case. The prospect of perpetually sending thoughts back and forth between himself and Wolf just didn't feel right, but it was entirely possible now, with thought-reading microorganisms alive within him as they spoke.

Fox wondered just what he'd gotten himself into by letting this unknown alien life into his system, and was starting to fear in the back of his mind that some sorts of complications might eventually arise from his exposure to this foreign biology. He might never be able to go back to Corneria for fear of exposing the world to the alien life that had entered him. Wolf probably hadn't even thought about that when he came here, having been forced to the edge of the known universe by desperation. Fox tried not to think too hard about it just yet, and hoped that some solution could be reached before long.

"Fine, fine. But can you just give me a straight answer?" Fox said, dusting himself off as he got up.

A thin cloud of scattering dirt fell off of Fox's clothes, lingering around him in the air for just a little longer than he'd have expected. That only intensified Fox's fears. He decided that maybe he ought to burn his outfit and chemically treat his fur once they got back to the ship.

But would it be enough?

Wolf woke Fox from his musing with an unprovoked smack to the ass, causing the vulpine to jump and ready his blaster out of instinct before realizing that he and Wolf were still alone in the room. Wolf's stone-cold business face showed only the slightest hint of the usual sharp-toothed grin he'd give over such a gesture.

"You're asking the wrong guy to set something straight," Wolf replied. He motioned for Fox to follow him. "Let's just go forward and hope you don't have to experience one of those things firsthand. There's only one way forward, but if we're lucky, it'll loop around."

Wolf was off toward the room's one unexplored exit before Fox could even protest. Fox reluctantly held his peace and followed him, refraining from making a complaint about the stinging feeling on his rear.

The next hallway, not unlike the prior one, had a wide path that curved, and a high ceiling. Unlike earlier rooms, however, it depicted scenes in large pictures rather than the hieroglyphs from before.

The first showed a large map, or so it seemed. The outside borders were lined with red, rivers were clearly marked with blue, and the rest was marked with varying shades of green and brown.

The second depicted a group of creatures not unlike a standard Cornerian, except that wings were joined to his arms. It took a minute to discern from the faded drawing that this was a non-feral bat-one of the creatures Fox had never seen in all the planets he'd visited, but had briefly mentioned in tales told in obscure places.

Fox moved on. The next picture depicted fungal growths emerging from one of the group, with the rest far removed from the outcast.

The last mural before the drawing showed the map from before, but only a small circle from before remained green; much of the landmass had been engulfed in the red color that had previously reserved for the border.

A chill went down Fox's spine as he realized what had happened here, and he could tell with worrying clarity that Wolf was processing it the same way. These bats had carved out a refuge for themselves in the midst of an infected world, and they'd been careless just once. The blight had spread until only this one stronghold remained, and now their one final domain was lost, too.

"Shit," Wolf muttered. "Thought we had it bad with the Aparoids?"

"Pretty depressing," Fox said. "Those flying things back there… I think we just killed a few of the former natives, or whatever is left of their race."

"Jumping to conclusions, pup?" Wolf said dismissively.

Worry spiked within Fox, and he began to think about the implications of the bats being affected. If these weird fungal things could transmit their thoughts, then why wouldn't the infection that transformed the natives do the same to Fox and Wolf?

This place was more dangerous than either of them had suspected, for certain. Fox wished with all his heart that he could get out of there, go back to his bed, close his eyes, and wake up with all of this alien horror over with.

The impact from the back of Wolf's hand brought Fox out of that fantasy.

"Could you cut that out!?" Wolf growled, baring his teeth. "If that shit could take away our sentience or hijack our bodies like it could theirs, I'd have lost mine two months ago. Stop your damn finicking."

Fox shook off the shock of being struck from out of the blue.

"What are you-"

 _Talking about?_

Fox didn't get to finish the question.

"Those things are thick in the air," Wolf said. "Which means I'm picking up your worry, and I can't take that kind of shit right now when I'm trying my damnedest to stay calm. I don't need you to remind me how we've fucked up."

Fox almost asked what Wolf was talking about, but a better route to the answer presented itself to him. He sniffed the air instead, and he perked up his ears, and he thought.

He could get right into Wolf's head from here with just a bit of focus. If he tried hard enough, he could know _anything_ about Wolf-his embarrassing childhood stories, his sexual fantasies, his true feelings toward Fox in their rawest and most deep-rooted form, and anything else was fair game at this point. He knew that Wolf had this same power over him, and wasn't making use of it even though he'd showed no hesitation to take what he could from Fox's mind earlier.

Wolf seemed to be focused on something else, though, and Fox had difficulty prying what he wanted out of Wolf's mind as he started to wonder what had captured Wolf's attention. It presented itself to him, taking Fox off of the task of probing Wolf's mind.

Wolf's mind brought Fox some very unwelcome news. He and Wolf were present, but off in the distance, there were two other presences. They, too, could make use of the airborne fungi that bore their thoughts, but they certainly weren't Cornerian, and neither canid could glean much from them other than how much closer they were getting by the minute.

Fox realized that they were the source of the thumping, and off in the distance, thumps were sounding irregularly. He and Wolf had been played like a pair of fiddles. Both of the approaching creatures not only knew where Fox and Wolf were, and were headed toward it, but the noise they'd made had been a clever trick; they'd intimidated the canids with a loud noise, frightened them into taking a dead-end trail, and deceived them into cornering themselves.


	8. Resolve P2

AN: Posting this because I promised I'd be quick on this chapter. Also, I'm going to Midwest Furfest in about twenty hours, so I'm going to keep this brief in favor of getting to sleep (btw, if you're going, or even if you're not, say hi to me on Telegram! Username tldrOtter just like on here).

This chapter is probably the most intense point of the fic, and I've been agonizing over how to do it for a long time. I only hope this is adequate.

As always, huge thanks to everyone who's taken time to review these chapters. Reviews are what keeps me going, as is the knowledge that I'm spending my time on something that someone other than me enjoys.

I might update this AN later, and might also pretty up the rest of the chapter a bit, but for now… well, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Fox could tell, then and there, just how thoroughly they'd chosen wrong. According to the map on the wall, at the end of all this was a ritual sacrifice altar, and, as if that weren't morbid enough, no path leading beyond it.

The canids were cornered, and something large was coming. There wasn't a doubt in Fox's mind that the approaching giants wanted blood from their cornered prey.

"Wolf," Fox said firmly. "Tell me now. What are those things?"

"My worst fucking nightmare," Wolf snarled back.

"Well-"

"You kill them the same way I killed one from the sky the other day, after we took out the turrets," Wolf replied. "Heat, determination, and soundness of mind. Melt their flesh padding until it falls off, and fry the vulnerable tissue beneath it once you can. It's a lot harder on the ground, even if we pretend we had a ship's firepower down here. In the sky, they can't fuck with your head. Down here, you have to steel yourself, because they share your air and the messengers in it, and they'll kill you if you don't have the resolve to kill them first."

Fox's worries started to get to him, but all the same, he chuckled to himself. Part of it was that the adrenaline rush came on strong, and the rest was his attempt to cling to false hope.

"They were smart enough to trick us," Fox said. "I bet they're trying to make us make a stand, because they're bigger than we are. I know we think there's a dead end, but that might just be another trick. If we keep going deeper in, though, I bet we can loop around, collect the treasure, and get out of here. C'mon."

He dragged Wolf by the hand around the corner, passing the mural, and his heart dropped. They really were _trapped_ back here; the hallway narrowed into a shrine, beside which was one boot-sized bag full of gold and several winged skeletons. Then there was a solid wall with nothing that appeared to have any chance of hiding an escape.

It looked like it had been a _long_ time since anything around the shrine had been disturbed. The sight of Cornerian-sized bat skeletons sent a chill down Fox's spine.

"Wouldn't you know it? Gold," Wolf said bitterly, gesturing at the pouch. "That'll sure keep us alive, won't it? Might pay off a third of my bounty, too."

The thumping was starting to get loud enough to where Fox could hear it even without trying to listen in on it.

"Shoot them, huh? That's all we can do? No mines you can lay? No traps you can set?" Fox asked.

"Nothing that'd make a dent," Wolf replied. "I'm not the one here with a budget for small, portable, high-impact weapons that aren't the blaster I've had since before we met."

He couldn't tell where exactly it was coming from. As Wolf spoke, an image of the creatures came to Fox's head. Their legs were thicker than Fox's whole body, and their bodies were disproportionately small in reference. Where their faces should've been, there instead protruded a terrible sharp horn.

It was as Wolf had told him; he'd seen one of these before from the sky.

"Then what do we do?" Fox asked.

Wolf grimaced.

"We stay here, keep our heads, and fucking kill them," he replied. Wolf directed a heavy breath toward Fox along with a piercing stare. "This is a chance to prove I've learned something. If there's one thing I learned from fighting you over the years, it's that I need to learn from my mistakes."

Fox wasn't sure what he meant by _prove something_ , but there wasn't time to ask.

"And if there's one thing I learned from fighting you over the years, it's that I need to be prepared, or I'm probably going to die," Fox replied pointedly.

Wolf closed his eyes and seemed to be lost in thought. Right as Fox was about to give him a piece of his increasingly anxiety-addled mind, Wolf cleared his throat and gave Fox his attention.

"Was I not clear? Burn their flesh off with your blaster," Wolf growled. "A few shots on the medium setting should work. It'll fall off, and what's beneath it is vulnerable to heat. Fry the right spot, wherever the hell that is, and they'll drop dead. They're not quick, so we stand a chance. Just know that they're also not stupid, and they might be more dangerous as a pair than on their own. Just make sure that you _don't_ get hit by their horns."

"Nah, really?"

"Really," Wolf said emphatically, scowling. "I'm not fucking with you here. Don't even get touched. You'll regret it."

The thumping was getting more and more audible. Fox wondered if maybe he ought to go check around the corner. Part of him wished that he could just stay back by this stone altar, pick up the gold, and wait for Slippy or Falco to arrive with the Landmaster like he occasionally could back in the good old days, when he had a team.

Fox cut those thoughts out as Wolf twitched. That kind of escapism would get him bitch-smacked at a time like this, when he needed to prepare himself.

"I'm steeling myself right now," Wolf said. "Not in the right state of mind to face them, but we have a moment or two more. Count on it; I'll be ready when they get here."

Wolf didn't move from that point on, and Fox tried to find his own zen. He couldn't help but watch Wolf, though, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going through the older canid's head. Wolf's eye was closed, and Fox nearly mistook him for dead until he started to growl beneath his breath.

"Wolf?" Fox called out.

Footsteps started to sound. These weren't loud, deliberate footsteps like they'd heard from across the building. Rather, they were the inevitable kind of sound that something heavy _had_ to make while walking.

The growling got louder as the footsteps did, but Wolf still didn't move, even when Fox shoved him on the shoulder. Fox, anxiously anticipating the upcoming combat, drew his staff and nearly started to reassemble it before he realized this wasn't Sauria and he should definitely use his blaster after all.

"Wolf, whatever you're doing, snap out of it!" Fox called. The noise came from right around the corner now, and was accompanied by a light shaking of the ground. He'd see his opponent quite soon. "They're right on us! Draw your blaster already!"

Fox's heart sank as he realized that they'd be facing two of them at once. He'd seen Wolf fry one of them from his ship not at all long ago, but it seemed like an even more daunting task than he'd speculated. On the ground, it'd be a hell of a task unless he were somehow handed a plasma cannon.

Their legs were thick like tree trunks, and there was no discernable face. They stood easily eight feet tall on their four legs, and they seemed to have disproportionately small bodies. Aside from the thick legs, the most striking thing about them was the long, sharp horn protruding from where their heads would presumably be if they were normal creatures.

The sight sent a shudder down Fox's spine. He gripped his blaster a little too tight, and tried to plan a few steps ahead.

As they rounded the corner, Wolf stood up, ceasing his sustained growl. He fetched one of the metal hexagons from his pocket and palmed it with a silent grimace.

"Alright," Wolf said. He hurled the device at one of the creatures. "You brought this on yourselves."

Fox held his breath as the metal device flew through the air…

It struck its mark right where the head presumably was, stuck for a moment, and then harmlessly fell off of the great monster. The sound of metal clinking on stone came from somewhere behind a front pair of massive legs.

"Shit," Wolf mutteed.

The lupine took a few heavy breaths as Fox timidly began taking aim, and it seemed that they were back to the drawing board, with Fox putting away his nerves as well as he could. Then, out of nowhere, the older canid screamed with unprecedented ferocity.

He drew his blaster and set it to high-it would fire slow shots after about a second of charging up, but the blasts would fry nearly anything once they fired.

"Fine! You want a piece of me that badly!?" Wolf shouted. "Then fucking get some!"

He didn't wait for their approach. Fox's pulse, already dangerously quick, got even heavier as he watched two horns prime themselves for a swing. He half expected the charging lupine to be torn to bits in an instant. Somehow, though, Wolf managed to charge between them, duking each one out without being scooped up by a pair of swinging horns. He fired a series of shots, targeting the one nearest him, that boiled layers of repulsive flesh off.

With Wolf between them firing charged shots from between their undersides, the creatures couldn't even turn to get their horns at him thanks to the relative narrowness of the halls. Wolf had spaced it perfectly, and held onto his advantage as he shouted obscenities at them with incendiary rawness in his voice.

"Bastards! Fungal cunts!" Wolf called as he fired away, hollering something new at them in sync with each shot. Small bits of flesh fell off of the underside of his primary target.

Fox snapped out of his panic and realized that he, too, should be taking aim at the enemies; Wolf fared well so far and seemed surprisingly familiar with how to face these monsters on the ground, but he'd certainly been afraid of them, and could probably use some help.

The beast on the other end of Fox's blaster shots, upon being hit, gave up on trying in vain to face Wolf. Its horn lined up with Fox, and it hesitated before moving itself out of its companion's way to make the charge.

Fox braced himself, immediately regretting his decision to choose a different target than Wolf's, only to hear something surprising in his head.

 _You were right to fear us._

"Wolf!" Fox called. "They're sentient! I just heard-"

He gave up quickly on trying to tell Wolf anything, realizing that his words were futile and Wolf was in his zone. The lupine wasn't hearing a thing; all he could focus on was firing his blaster, one heavy shot at a time, and coming up with new curses to shout.

"Fucking hellspawn!" he yelled with the kind of hate in his voice that Fox had expected from his rival only a few days ago-the kind he knew Wolf held toward things that posed a serious threat to him. Wolf fired another shot, melting off a chunk of pasty flesh the size of Fox's torso. "Go back to hell!"

Fox held his attention on his own predicament as it seemed to grow more dire; his own opponent hung down its horn and poised itself to charge toward him. Fox fired a few more shots behind its horn, and finally his medium-strength shots took off a chunk of the beast's fleshy armor.

That didn't faze the charging creature, but it was progress. Similarly, Fox's evasive maneuvering was paying dividends. As soon as the beast had committed to where its horn swung, Fox made a dive to the side and landed right out of the way without putting much more than his hands and knees in contact with the ground. He managed to land three good retributive shots where some armor had already fallen off, and as the creature turned, a bit more fell from it.

Meanwhile, further down the hall, Wolf seemed to be dancing with his adversary like an overly determined bullfighter. The beast swung and stomped left and right, and Wolf knew exactly where not to be, sidestepping and diving, punishing his foe with a heavy blast so reliably and precisely that he had to step far away to avoid stepping on fallen tofu-like goop.

Fox started to hope; for all the fear he'd felt, this wasn't a doomed effort. It was just like another fight with some big, scary monster on Sauria.

So what if there were weird neuro-fungi in the air? He'd fought a fire-breathing dragon, a gigantic tyrannosaurus rex, and countless other monsters with unusual gimmicks, and he'd always been able to figure out a weakness and exploit it until the threat was neutralized.

Fox stepped out of the way of a stomp that certainly would've flattened him, starting to get into the rhythm of the fight as he fired three more safe shots to punish his foe. He braced himself, waiting to plan out his next move, determined to remain untouched. The great horn swung upward, hoping to cleave Fox right in two, and Fox felt confident enough to cartwheel out of the way, reluctant to roll on the ground and pick up more alien dust.

Things were starting to look much better; Fox could continue this pattern for a little while longer, evading lethal hits with more than enough time to retaliate against each attempt the larger creature made on his life.

 _Fast, but frail. Food for our gods, soon to join us._

The words came into Fox's mind. Was he being… taunted?

Compared to his dogfights with Wolf, that hardly felt like an insult. Fox almost wanted to laugh. At the rate things were going, this thing was about to be fried just like that one out in the jungle.

Wolf seemed to be just about done with his, as well; a cesspool of steaming flesh sat behind a creature that seemed to be making desperate swings at a confident, vengeful, untouchable Wolf.

Fox fired five shots as his aggressor turned to charge him once more, and he cracked a determined grin as the precise, calculated shots rewarded him; unlike Wolf's mad, punishing fire, Fox's shots had all been placed carefully. The whole of the creature's front-side armor all fell off in a heap, baring red, veiny flesh unlike everything he'd seen yet. The armor all landed with a nauseating splat-thud, and Fox stepped back as he'd seen Wolf do.

 _You come before us as an offering._

Fox snorted. That was big talk for something that was barely a minute away from being roasted. He'd seen what a Wolfen's guns could do to these guys, and his blaster was about to do the same.

The creature, however, seemed to be slightly faster than before, or perhaps just a little more determined to move quickly. For a moment, Fox panicked as he realized that he'd backed himself into a corner beside the offering shrine. The heavy toward him steps were quicker and less heavy as it was unencumbered by the weight that had fallen, and yet its stomps were, no doubt, still very lethal.

As it approached, the creature lowered its horn once again, and Fox realized he could make something out of how boxed in he was. He'd have to go under the creature, or get around it somehow, and then it was all downhill; he'd be behind it at the perfect angle to fry its underside.

The opportunity presented itself just as Fox had hoped. Fox was backed into a corner, but he just waited for the swing. If he avoided the slow horn and kicked off against the creature's leg, he could propel himself back behind it, into open space, and then he'd have plenty of room before he'd have to do any sort of cautious repositioning again. He felt a hint of doubt, but only for a moment; he had full confidence that this was a maneuver he could make.

Fox read its movement just as anticipated. Its legs were firmly planted on the floor, and Fox's boot kicked off from it…

His foot stuck to the creature's fleshy coating, sinking into the sticky substance when Fox tried to kick off. As the horn rose, Fox gripped it at the base to save himself from falling flat on his face, hoping and praying for the best in a split second of panic.

The horn, it turned out, had a sharpened edge that sliced through Fox's glove and grazed beneath the skin at the center of his palms. His legs were freed from the creature's stick, he was able to withdraw his hand without further damage, and he rolled past his foe's body despite his misgivings about such a maneuver.

Fox had done it. His hand stung, but it wasn't too bad. He was behind the creature and had his golden opportunity to fry it as it slowly turned around.

He heard an enormous thud, followed by a primal lupine howl from Wolf, and turned his head to see the other monster collapsed in a heap. Wolf stood victorious and pulled his gun's bayonet out of the creature's head region. Red flesh had been cooked pink where the blaster had been planted, and the monster's legs had buckled as it fell lifeless.

All the same, threats came from Fox's foe as it turned around.

 _Now you join us, orange one. Experience my fate._

The words felt empty until Fox's gun fell out of his hand, and he realized just how dizzy he felt all of a sudden. He raised his cut hand and watched blood trickle from the shallow wound. He realized soon after that he was barely able to keep his arm up; his whole body felt heavy, and his knees didn't want to support his weight anymore.

The wound on his hand tingled uncomfortably, and an unwelcome vision from his foe filled his head. He saw himself fall down onto all fours, and saw his fur begin to fluff up first, then expand, and then balloon out uncomfortably, turning pasty white in color.

The Fox in his mind's eye started to expand, and a horn began to protrude from the back of his skull. It grew very slowly, and meanwhile, his head continued to face downward as he ceased breathing and his face was engulfed.

Meanwhile, the real-world Fox McCloud first fell to his knees, then dropped flat onto his belly. The blaster fell out of his hands, quietly clinking beside his prone figure.

"Pup!" Wolf roared, panicking as he fired several high-power shots at the remaining beast. "Fox! Damn it, McCloud! Get up right now! You can't do this to me!"

All the way across the room, Wolf was in no position to help; he could only fire at the behemoth's side as it lowered its horn and advanced on Fox. Despite facing an immobile fox doomed to inevitable assimilation, the monster still stepped forward as if to crush Fox's bones with one more stomp, or possibly to slice him in two.

Fox knew that the vision of himself turning into one of these creatures came right from the fungi in the air. Along with it came a faint vision of the bats that they had once been-similar in form to Cornerian species, but winged. They'd suffered the same corruption that Fox now seemed doomed to, and somewhere deep within them, they harbored resentment for what the devastating fungal infection had done to them.

The thought of that kind of corruption made Fox ill. This thing _had_ to be put down now, if only as an act of mercy. As tempting as it was to accept that Fox wasn't going to make it out of this with his body or his mind intact, he fed off of his determination to make just one more thing turn out right, and slay this creature before moving on to meet his own fate.

Some sort of neurotoxin had entered his bloodstream, and fighting it was one hell of a mountain to climb, but Fox knew he only had to overcome it for a second. He'd learned from what he'd seen that there was still some remnant of a bat head right at the front of the creature's underside, and he knew what he had to do. He just had to force his body, against all odds, to do it.

Fox mustered up all of his determination, grabbed his gun with all of his might, and forced his legs to flip him over onto his back.

In a single smooth motion, he slid himself only a few feet before the creature's body, flipped his blaster's power setting to high, and pulled the trigger.

Bullseye.

The vital flesh of a once-sapient creature fried and sizzled. The remnants of a bat brain, whether or not it had been entirely overridden, was still the source of the beast's motion commands, and with that burned out of commission, four giant legs slid outward.

Only inches from the immobile vulpine pilot's head, the great monster collapsed. Its full weight fell onto Fox's discarded blaster, flattening even the resilient metal before engulfing it entirely.

Fox breathed shallow breaths of relief as Wolf stepped over him, looking down into his eyes in disbelief. Dust from the creature's collapse started to fill his eyes, and he could barely see the familiar face appear until his eyes finally watered enough to wash some of it away.

"You fucking did it," Wolf said with an awestruck face, as if he didn't realize that Fox was doomed to share the same fate as the mutated bat that he'd just slain. "There's no way you can know how I feel right now. Your mind… pup, I can see everything at the surface right now. How you'll morph into one of them. How you just beat out a neurotoxin by force of will."

Wolf held out his gun, wiping the bayonet clean of goopy residue with his jacket.

"Wolf," Fox managed to say.

He couldn't say anything more, and he couldn't even widen his eyes in surprise at the realization. His induced stasis hadn't gotten any worse, but it had been almost two minutes since the fight had started. An adrenaline crash was starting to weaken his force of will.

Fox tried to speak, but failed entirely and cursed his luck for robbing him of his last words. There would be no goodbyes between them after all.

"You're waiting for me to shoot you," Wolf said. He stole the words right from Fox's immobile mouth. "It's all I can do at this point, you'd say. There's a lot on your mind, I know, and you don't have to say it. You're wondering what I'll say to Falco, what's going to happen to him without you, what's going to happen to me if you're not alive to prove that I wasn't the real cause of your death. How am I going back to Lylat without you, right?"

Fox wanted to protest; Wolf was putting words in his mouth at this point, rather than actually reading his mind, and it felt insulting. Fox was certainly waiting for Wolf's mercy kill, and when it came down to it, he was starting to come to terms with what he knew had to happen. If anyone was going to tan his hide, it was going to be Wolf.

But Wolf was treating this far too lightly.

Fox hadn't even thought about Falco until Wolf mentioned him, and he wasn't reaching so far as to consider what might happen to Wolf _after_ he pulls the trigger.

Wolf put the barrel of the gun right up against Fox's head, and Fox felt prepared as he'd ever been to die. Being completely honest with himself, he'd prepared to die during their first encounter on Fichina; Team Star Wolf was a far more polished, experienced team, and some part of Fox expected Wolf to be the end of him all those years ago. The fact that he'd lasted this much longer without Wolf putting an end to him, given how capable Wolf was in every respect, was really quite remarkable, but all things had to come to an end.

"Well, don't worry about all that. I'm glad to have known you as well as I did, even if it was only for a few days," Wolf said. "Goodbye."

Fox heard a clicking noise first, then a humming sound, and then the sound of the trigger clicking. He braced himself, preparing for everything to go black.

Somehow, that didn't happen.

Wolf chuckled a few deliberate, fiendish chuckles.

"You thought that was it," he gloated. Wolf pulled the trigger again with the gun facing upwards, and it only clicked without firing. The older canid's fanged grin beamed down at Fox. "Safety is on. Shitty of me to do that to you, but I don't fucking believe you. You actually thought I was going to do it?"

 _What the hell are you talking about?_

Fox couldn't say the words, and had no way to know for sure if Wolf could hear him, but finally, after ignoring so many spoken inquiries over the last hour, Wolf addressed this one unspoken question.

"I have a story to tell you," Wolf said, crossing his arms at his chest and closing his one good eye. All Fox could do was keep his eyes open, even as the urge to blink began to become unbearable, and watch Wolf rattle off a tale. "I wanted to find this planet's gold. I got cocky, like I always do. I came down to the surface. Metal detector said there's a lot in the ground down here, and I figured there'd be gold out in the open for me to find without fucking around in this big maze. Only natural that I ran into one of these shits by the one of the many rivers in the area."

Wolf gestured at the corpse he'd made.

"I didn't know what to expect. Got grazed, just like you did. Fell to the ground, couldn't even do what you did and grip my gun. It swung its horn, and I barely edged out of skewering range, and it bucked like any charging horned monster would. Damn things are strong as they look. I got thrown ten feet in the air, and my backpack flew off," Wolf said, and he chuckled. "Guess all the luck in my whole life got saved for this one moment. I got caught in vines, unable to move, right out of reach. Got chased anyway, but he stepped on my backpack, and guess what I had in there."

Wolf balled his fists together, and spread them out dramatically, mouthing the word _boom_.

"Fried it from below. Never had time to give me any cryptic warnings about silly local gods like these guys did. Never had to lure us into a corner, or take advantage of mind-reading to maneuver us into the one dead end in this entire place," Wolf continued. "You can get why I didn't want to run into another one, let alone two, of these guys. Nothing pisses me off quite like losing a fight I should win over something cheap, but it always seems to happen to me. I figured that if this fight _did_ happen, it'd be me paralyzed on the floor, not you."

Wolf gave a few more smug chuckles. Fox found himself confused and alarmed as Wolf put away his blaster.

 _No, no, no! You're not leaving me here to become one of them!_

"I'll admit I would've been crushed under a giant flat foot if it'd been up to me to make that last shot. I don't know how you always come back from these do-or-die situations, McCloud. It's probably why I've never beaten you," he confessed. "But… you don't get why I'm telling you all of this, do you? What my story means for you?"

That much went without saying. Fox was expecting a sappier goodbye, not more teasing-even from Wolf. The lupine seemed content to rattle off his own experience with all the arrogance and self-satisfaction in the galaxy, while Fox slowly faded out of consciousness, kept awake only by his anticipation of whatever point Wolf was hopefully getting to.

"I got cut, too. The toxin got in my bloodstream, too, and it wore off. It's been two months. We're not bats, and we're not similar enough to bats for either of us to be vulnerable to this morphing bullshit. Our body temperatures are so high that there's nothing on this planet that can survive on a Cornerian for long. You'll probably pass out soon thanks to the shit in your bloodstream, but that's when the worst is over. In about three hours, you'll be able to walk again and neither of us will be able to see into the other's mind as long as we stay away from this forsaken planet."

He snickered just a bit more as Fox tried and failed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Now stop freaking out, pup. I'm getting us out of here, and we're getting back into orbit before we have to see any more of this planet. Got it?"

Wolf took rope from the side of his jacket and tied one end around Fox's right arm, and then the other end around Fox's left. Under any other situation, Fox would've taken that in a very different way, but for the time being, he was very confused.

Wolf threw Fox's arms around his neck, then positioned both of Fox's legs so that they wrapped around Wolf's waist. It wasn't optimal, but the purpose of the rope became clear; this would make for far better leverage as he carried Fox back to the ship.

Wolf walked to the shrine, examined the one modest bag of gold that they'd managed to find, and sighed as he stuffed it into his jacket pocket, carefully bending down so that Fox wouldn't fall off.

"Just in case, this is our consolation prize, even if it's kind of a pittance," Wolf sighed. He went across the room to where he'd thrown the metal contraption at the start of their recent brawl, and he picked it up with the same caution. "With these, though, I think we'll be alright."

Wolf took a few fidgeting steps to adjust his passenger, and though Fox's weight was obviously uncomfortable, he found a decent groove that he could sustain until they were out of there. The movement started to make Fox nauseous, and his drying eyes started to fail him. The burning sensation of dust on his eyes was starting to overwhelm him.

"And pup," Wolf said, turning his head back so that his good eye locked with one of Fox's immobile green eyes. "I'm never going to pull that trigger for real. I wouldn't dream of it. Not sure how you haven't caught on yet, but I love you."

Fox wasn't sure what the real cause of his accelerated dizziness was, but the world his eyes saw started to blur together at an accelerated pace. He knew he didn't have long to stay awake, but before he could decide how he felt about all that had just transpired, the pain started to become unbearable and he managed, in one more moment of intense willpower, to close his aching eyes.

From there, everything went to black, and the minutes passed all at once.


	9. Perfect Timing

AN:

This is really late. I've been trying to upload at least once a month, and now I've failed by a wide margin, and that's not okay. I don't think it's fair for me to make any of you wait this long, especially considering how much support I've had over this fic. Seriously, I appreciate all of you putting reviews out, and even those of you I never heard anything from, who've presumably been reading it and seeing how this whole thing plays out.

Whoever you are, I owe you a piece of what's going on in my head.

I was in a relationship with someone as of August, and we broke up in early January. Even before we broke up, we fought all the time. It was really difficult, having thought that he and I were going to be a lot like Fox and Wolf, with me slowly becoming more like Wolf and him becoming more like Fox (or at least, the versions of them I put into my fic?). I could barely convince myself to write, and most times when I was about to start, he'd message me and it'd turn my mood too sour for me to get on with my fic.

I'm always depressed, but I was starting to actually despair. He wasn't good at handling it, and I wasn't honestly even too good at expressing it, because… you know, I'm kind of like Wolf. I'm not easily shaken, I seldom tip my hand, and I stay stoic even when I'm having the worst time of my life. Aside from that, he went to Further Confusion this year and stayed in my room, and I felt so physically ill that I just couldn't enjoy anything and I kind of sat on the bed trying not to have a total breakdown or a screaming fit.

It's over now, but it's been a difficult past couple of months for me.

Aside from that, though, I've been having some serious doubts about this fic. I'm almost done with it anyway, but it really started with two visions in my head of interactions between Fox and Wolf, and both of those are done now (the pool scene and the ground mission, in case you were wondering). Everything else has been there because I had to bridge a gap, rather than because I was inspired to write it all. I feel like the two scenes that motivated me to write this whole fic are the actually good parts of the fic, and the rest is… decent, maybe, but not what I wish it could've been.

I wanted to write the definitive Fox/Wolf fic that everyone would remember and recommend to friends who didn't understand why they're such a great couple. I didn't think this was going to be that kind of fic; it's too isolated, with only three characters even appearing and very little of the Star Fox universe showcased. But that being said, I really wanted to write something that I could look at and compare to Reptilia (if you haven't read Reptilia yet, fucking do it! It's a really good fic, and is sort of responsible along with Jaslazul for me even putting all this time into writing a fic of my own in the first place) without feeling like I just can't compare.

I think I aimed a little too high. And even if I didn't, Jaslazul is currently writing Black and White (you MUST read that too, but you can wait because he's not done yet), and it's excellent, and might become the bar I try to measure up to in the future. He thought it through and paid much more attention to detail than I did, and I'm honestly really damn envious because I feel like if I'd just been a little more patient and a lot more focused, I could've made my fic almost that good.

This brings me to my main point, though, which is that I feel kind of inadequate, and like I've failed at large. A month or two ago, I'd have probably realized my mistakes and assured you all that "I'm better than this" and that "I'm going to write another fic, and this one is going to be that definitive Best Fic Ever that I wanted to write". I don't know if I can even say that anymore, because I'm a complete mess and I'm a little bit broken.

But one thing you guys should probably know about me is that I'm used to feeling like shit. I'm used to messing up and hating my work and wishing I were dead, and still continuing on with what I usually do. I'm pretty consistent. I also follow through on promises, and I promised I'd finish this fic before I even posted the first chapter.

So I'm going to finish this thing, even if I have to rush through it and be sloppy like I've been for several of the chapters of this fic. I'm almost done with the fic anyway; the update before this one was, in my eyes, the climactic scene of the whole thing, and the rest of this is sort of tying up loose ends. I'm sorry if it's not what you all wanted, and if that's not what you hoped to hear, but the plan has been fairly set from the beginning, and this fic has only one more update in the works. By the end of this chapter, the resolution should be pretty clear.

I apologize if my work's quality suffers from the state of my mind. I know I need to pay more attention to detail in the future, but that's not happening for this fic. If I try too hard, my frustration might actually push me over the edge.

I should also mention that as I post this, I'm in a really shitty state of mind and I hardly know how to apologize for how unsatisfying and abbreviated this chapter is. The resolution was supposed to come along with this, and now you guys all have to wait for me to wrap up another cliffhanger, and that's really lame and I'm seriously sorry. As bad as I feel right now, I'm grateful to all of you for sticking it out thus far and continuing to read even though it's been more than two months since my last update.

So as always, thanks for reading.

* * *

By the time the world came back into focus, the ship was already safely off the ground. Fox could barely express his relief as, managing to force his eyes open after an indeterminate period of shut-eyed grogginess, he saw the inside of Wolf's ship. He'd been propped against a wall, placed on a low counter while Wolf seemingly fetched and ate something in the kitchen.

Fox still couldn't talk, and he still had almost no control over his body. In fact, he felt lucky to be able to breathe.

Wolf noticed him before long.

"You're up, huh?" Wolf said. "It's been just about an hour. Can you move? Or maybe even talk?"

Fox tried to shake his head, then tried to grunt out a no. To his frustration, it didn't work no matter how hard he tried.

"That's a no," Wolf sighed. "Oh well. We're just about in full-on space now. Either you've been out cold for a little over an hour, or you've been awake this whole time with your eyes stuck shut. Seems you've opened your eyes by now, so it shouldn't be long before you can talk again. But then, that's holding you to my standards of recovery. High bar."

He came closer to Fox so that the immobile pilot could actually see him. His gray fur was abnormally dark, and lacked its usual patches of white.

"If you're wondering why I'm all wet, it's because I just got done bathing myself and my clothes in rubbing alcohol," he explained. "Probably for the best if you do the same, just to kill off anything that stuck to you. Not exactly foolproof, but nothing from the surface proved especially resilient to different climates. And besides." Wolf flashed his typical villain smile. "Alcohol has solved plenty of problems in the past. I'll prove it sometime, if you don't mind being my bitch for the best night of your life."

Wolf slung Fox's arms around his damp gray neck, making Fox aware that his hands were still bound together at the wrists. Once again, he picked Fox up, positioning the smaller canid on his back for easy carrying. Wolf as promised, reeked of isopropyl alcohol.

They headed over to a window, and Wolf leaned Fox's inert head over with his own so that they could both see outside. There was always the great empty void, with the typical distant stars visible amidst an endless nothing. They'd made it out of the pull of the planet's gravity by now, and seemed to be drifting in orbit.

"Space. We're back. The nightmare's over after all, and I have some pretty high hopes that we got what we came for," Wolf said.

 _What do you mean, we got what we came for? That little bag of gold might pay my rent for a couple years, but it's not pardoning you._

Fox realized rather happily that Wolf probably couldn't hear his thoughts anymore, and he'd have to wait to ask just what Wolf meant. A few more hours had to pass before he could talk, but the mental link was hopefully gone forever.

"Now that you're up, I'm going to have to take you to the bathtub, too. Shouldn't be too difficult for you to hold your breath for the water when I tell you to. Hopefully."

Fox would've grimaced if he'd been able to move his face. Rubbing alcohol was one of his least favorite smells, even mixed in with Wolf's mild earthy musk. On the bright side, for the time being, he at least had the advantage of being the slightest bit out of his right mind.

He quietly resigned himself to his fate as Wolf made his way toward his bathroom. Fox hadn't been able to look around and see, but it turned out he'd left Fox on top of the washing machine. Fox wondered how long his back would hurt in days to come from being left on the hard surface, unable to correct his posture.

All of a sudden, Wolf stopped, and a familiar voice spoke from the side.

"No sudden moves." It was Falco's voice. "Hands where I can see them, and drop the fox gently unless you want your brains blown out."

Wolf turned his head to the side to meet Falco's cool gaze.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Wolf said after a slow turn accompanied by low, throaty growling. Falco, poker faced, thrusted his drawn blaster menacingly toward Wolf, but didn't pull the trigger. Wolf, in turn, kept one hand to his belt, but didn't draw a weapon of his own. "Besides what you're asking for, that is. That's not happening, so pull the trigger if you really want. It's your funeral."

Falco stepped closer.

"No playing tough here. Just drop him and sit in the corner until I know what the hell's going on."

Wolf snorted.

"I'm not playing," the lupine replied. Fox's pulse raised just a bit, giving him the strangest feeling that his body was full of adrenaline, but most of him was just too impaired to feel the usual rush. "Why the hell are you here, featherbrain?"

Wolf shook his head, and Fox got the feeling that he was dismissing something ill-timed that amused him.

"Been too long since I heard from my team lead," Falco replied. "Promised I'd come get him if he needed me. Ain't a surprise to see you've got him drugged and hogtied. Care to tell me it's not what it looks like?"

Wolf groaned in derision.

"Feathered piece of shit," Wolf complained. "There's no way you'll believe what actually happened, so fine."

He held up his hands as he stooped down, then released Fox gently against the corner of the wall.

From the new angle, Fox finally got a glimpse of Falco. He looked… cold, but not just in that he was hostile toward Wolf. He looked like he's been caught in a tornado and battered by everything the winds could lift, and then picked himself off the ground as soon as he could move again to get in his Arwing and scramble over to this far-off planet near the edge of the known universe.

For certain, there was a fierce determination in his eyes-fiercer than he'd ever shown on their missions, even when things got scary. His attention was firmly, zealously focused on Wolf, with Fox in the corner of his eye.

"If you want, I'll play your game," Wolf replied, walking with raised hands to the other corner of the room before setting his hands comfortably at the side of his jacket and sitting down. "I'm warning you, though. Fire that thing and you're dead. I don't do warning shots."

"Neither do I," Falco said, acid in his voice. "And for someone right in my line of fire, you're talking some big talk."

"Because I can walk it," Wolf replied. "But it's been a long day, and I'm not in a mood to show you the pecking order, so can we get this over with? Ask me loaded questions. That's why you're still pointing a gun at my face, right?"

Fox couldn't see Wolf's face; Falco was the only thing in his field of vision, and that was only from a ninety-degree angle. He cursed his luck, wishing Falco could've waited just a few more hours to ambush Wolf on his own ship so that he could sort things out himself. Wolf and Falco were both the kind to fight fire with fire; this was exactly the kind of thing he'd hoped to avoid by leaving Falco on Corneria instead of bringing him along.

"Think you know it all, don't you, pal?" the bird grumbled.

"Plenty more than you," Wolf replied. "Really, though, can we get on with this? There's something time-sensitive to take care of here."

"This ain't about my ego, and it sure as hell ain't about yours," Falco said. "I came here for Fox because he wasn't answering my calls. I need some proof that he's okay, or there's hell to pay for you."

His eyes turned over toward Fox, and the coldness melted right out of them after a few seconds of eye contact. His breathing got heavy enough for Fox to hear it, and his face and posture filled with a sort of panic that Fox had never seen from him before.

Wolf didn't seem to catch the change, and Falco's voice betrayed nothing.

"He ain't moving, and I don't like that. You're going to tell me you only drugged him, and he'll be back to normal soon," Falco spat. "Or I'm going to throw this blaster down, rip your _other_ eye out with my bare hands."

"Calm down, feathers. He's breathing. He's fine. Been drugged, if you could call it that, but it was some of those pesky native creatures, not me. It'll wear off in a few hours."

Falco turned over to Fox, and the paralyzed vulpine could see the obvious worry on his face. Fox tried to breathe a little heavier, just to make it easier for Falco to tell that he _was_ definitely breathing, but his body wouldn't seem to listen to anything his brain tried to tell it.

"Can't tell by looking," Falco replied. "Care to tell me why he's tied up?"

Once again, Wolf snorted.

"Because it's impractical to carry a guy any other way when there's the threat of weird fucking aliens lining up to take a quick shot to the head from your blaster," Wolf replied. "It's not even tied tight. Once he can move again, he'll be able to slip out on his own, and you should be able to tell that from looking. Got more stupid questions, like where you can find an optometrist?"

"Give it a rest, would you? I just want some proof," Falco said. "Proof that this isn't just what you do to guys who won't let you in their pants."

Wolf snorted.

"Leon was fucked up enough to do something similar to a few girls he picked up who didn't put out," Wolf replied with a snicker. "Bet you didn't want to know that. I, on the other hand, wait until they're begging me to tie them up."

Falco wore his best game face, but Wolf had clearly seen worse, and Fox watched from behind as Wolf advanced on the bird. He stepped forward until he was _just about_ in Falco's personal space, and smiled like the standard Cheshire Cat. Falco's fingers started to tremble on the gun, and as he regained composure, he poised himself to pull the trigger.

Right when Falco seemed totally set to fire, and right when Fox felt ready to pass out again from the tension, Wolf stopped, and Falco's finger relented.

"I'll tell you something, and then you're going to tell me something," Wolf continued. "Might be of interest to you, and I'll go first. Sound fair?"

"Try me," Falco said.

"I hoped you'd be game," Wolf said, and he paused to chuckled a few times, deliberate as a predator playing with its food. "I _haven't_ fucked Fox yet. That's mine. Here's yours. Why did _you_ fuck him? And if you're really feeling brave, tell me why you broke his heart just a little more than usual last night."

Falco's eyes widened. Fox didn't need telepathic fungi in the air to know what went through the bird's mind.

 _Oh shit. He knows._

Silence hung in the air.

"Is this your game, bird? Making me wait? Hoping I'll crack if you keep pointing that barrel at me?" Wolf taunted. "I can see the fear in your eyes. I know the answers to my own questions, and you know I'm not bluffing. Ever wonder why someone like Fox McCloud thinks of me as a worthy rival? It's because I'm the kind of guy who gives a damn about keeping up and thinks it's worth letting him in my head. Unlike you, I'll fuck him for the right reasons."

Falco's gun clattered on the floor. The bird closed the distance between himself and the damp-furred lupine in a split second. Wolf's hands raised to protect his head on short notice, but Falco slugged him directly in the stomach, causing Wolf to emit an affected grunt as he recoiled from the hit.

Falco stared at Wolf, stone-faced, as if to dare him to open his mouth again. Fox had never seen Falco look so serious or so dangerous in his life.

Naturally, Wolf took the bird's dare anyway.

"Is that all you've got?" Wolf laughed, following his taunt with an undignified wheeze. "I'll give you some more, then. I've had my eyes on him since he beat me in our second dogfight. All I've wanted since I was a teenager was someone I could compete with, who shared my love of flying and my commitment to being the best, and this jackass fox is the only guy I've ever found that _exceeded_ my expectations." Wolf paused. "So, you gonna hit me again? Because I can hit back."

"Nah. You get one good hit for being a giant ass," Falco replied. "But this ain't personal between us. I'm here, and I mean business, and that includes making you my business partner in the near future, got it? You know by now what I want from you. Convince me."

Wolf shrugged.

"I'll do my best, I guess," he said.

Fox wasn't ready for it when Wolf stooped down on one knee, grabbed Fox by the back of the head, and tilted his own head to the side. Wolf's tongue brushed against Fox's softly and sweetly in a way Fox wouldn't have expected from someone as crude as Wolf. It almost felt like a crime that, from Falco's perspective, the kiss looked completely standard, and seemed to be just one more thing Wolf did to piss the bird off.

"That enough?" Wolf asked. "If he weren't fine, I'd be scrambling with you to fix him."

"I ain't buying it," Falco said, his gun now picked up and raised at Wolf. "If Fox is alright, then you can stand here in my line of fire until he moves, or until you tell me what's really going on, or until you admit guilt. Got it, dogbreath?"

This _really_ wasn't how it was supposed to go. Deep down, Fox knew that Wolf and Falco weren't all that different, and that over time, they'd learn to respect each other and work together as fellow ace pilots. But meeting on their own terms wasn't going to give them that kind of chance.

Fox gathered up all of his determination, all of his willpower, and tried to say something.

Nothing happened. His body wouldn't respond. He struggled against the disconnect of his brain from his body, and he failed.

"If you're going to fire, then just fucking fire already, and I'll have Fox buy you a nice coffin," Wolf said.

"Think I'll miss?"

"Maybe not, but I sure as hell don't think you'll hit."

Fox wondered how that made sense, even to Wolf in a trolling mood. Based on Falco's prolonged silence for the following moments, he was in the same boat.

"Whatever," Falco said. "You're not helping your own case, so I'm taking Fox with me to Corneria."

"I'm not helping _my_ case?" Wolf scoffed. "Dumb bird. You still haven't even _made_ your own case, and you're the one who has a case to make here, considering that you broke his heart. Tell me why you fucked him, and then maybe I'll stop treating you like a clown. I dare you."

Finally, Falco's resolve cracked just a bit. It showed in his eyes, and then Falco shut them and took a deep breath and held it. Seconds passed, Falco let the breath go, and he just took another one, still not opening his eyes, letting his doubt fill the whole room.

It came out of nowhere.

"Falco!" Fox called.

His body locked right back up, but his eyes were fixed on the bird, and they must have said the rest for him, because Falco's posture eased up and the gun in his hand pointed downward.

Suddenly, without the fight in his stance, Falco looked… defeated? But not by Wolf. He looked like he'd had a few rough days, and like he'd lived through stories he wouldn't enjoy telling. It showed even more now that the desperation was out of his body language.

"That's it, then," Falco said. "I'll take a room. Won't be hard to find if you need me."

"Changing your tune that quick, huh?" Wolf said.

"I don't like you much, but I ain't a guy who lets personal insults or distaste affect my work. I'd have left Star Fox a few more times if I were," Falco said. "I've played it safe like I knew I should. See, I don't dick around when it comes to saving a teammate's ass."

"I might have a bruise that disagrees with you on that whole insults thing. But shit, bird. Where were you while we were on our ground mission, where his ass actually needed saving?" Wolf shot back.

"Standing right here, thinking you'd be on your own ship and expecting that you were the one I'd have to save him from," Falco said. "What do you think I am? Psychic? It's not like I can just show up at the last second to save the day. How the hell would I know someone's in trouble, anyway?"

Wolf snorted in response.

"But hey. Teammates, starting now," Falco said. "Even if you're an asshole, I want you to shake on it, Corneria's Most Wanted."

Falco threw his gun down again, this time further away. Wolf held out his hand first, and then Falco shook it, and the bird nodded in affirmation with his eyes closed.

"So," Falco said, and he gestured at Fox. "I'll help you carry him if you'll untie his hands, yeah?"

"He needs to soak in rubbing alcohol," Wolf replied. "Same goes for all his clothes, and mine. Which is why I'm still wet with the stuff. Alien life isn't something we want to leave in our fur. Better if you don't touch him until then."

Falco shrugged.

"I have no choice but to take your word on that," the bird said. He paused, looking like he had something to say, but his face told Fox that he'd let it go and decided to skip to business. "So, I've done some scouting of the place, and I'm pretty sure there's a bedroom that's not in use. I'll be in there until Fox can talk. Any objections?"

Wolf shrugged back.

"My objections don't seem to stop you guys," he said. "Be my guest."


	10. Standings

AN: I've said more than I should have already, at this point. I've complained and I've whined and I've cried out—sometimes for attention, sometimes for company, and sometimes because there's just nothing else to be done.

At this point, I think I'll just let a Jew from 2500+ years ago complain for me. He does a way better job of it:

 _Vanity of vanities, says the teacher, all is vanity!  
_ _What does man gain by all the work at which he toils under the sun? A generation goes, and a generation comes, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises, and the sun goes down, and it returns to the place where it rises.  
_ _The wind blows to the south and goes around to the north; around and around goes the wind, and in its circles the wind returns. All streams run to the sea, but the sea is never filled; to the place where the streams flow, they flow there yet again.  
All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing.  
_ _What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done.  
_ _There is nothing new under the sun._

So yeah. I can't write a fanfic I'm happy with, and I even can't write a complaint worth posting.

There's going to be one more chapter/post of this fic. I was considering going back and editing the chapters one by one when I finished this fic, but I don't give a fuck if it's flawed at this point. If this fic made a difference to you in any significant way, then you're who I wrote it for, and I wish I had it in me to do better for your sake.

Otherwise, have a nice day and thanks for humoring me.

EDIT:

For those of you who've been wondering, no. I'm NOT ignorant as to how to use a hyphen. I just tend to use double hyphens in place of an em dash, and this site somehow doesn't let two hyphens exist in succession. I'm trying to copy/paste an actual em dash from outside, because I'm getting really sick of this site's auto formatting. Apologizes to any fellow grammar Nazis I've irked.

* * *

Wolf dried him with a towel after the bath, but Fox's clothes were still damp and his fur was definitely still wet with the rubbing alcohol. The whole thing was a wordless blur where Wolf seemed to be thinking, and almost afraid to talk.

Afterward, Fox was set on his bed, untied, and told to holler for company when he was able to.

It seemed like a really, really long time, even though only an hour passed on the clock before Fox became capable of some sort of movement.

The first thing Fox managed to do was raise his arms. Fifteen more minutes, and he could also curl his fingers, but by the time he managed that, he'd mentally exhausted himself with the effort, and he willed his eyes shut.

Closing his eyes, it turned out, felt great. They stayed closed for an unexpectedly long period of time. After the nap, about an hour and a half later, it was far easier to open his eyes than it had been to close them, though Fox wondered to himself how he was so pathetic even hours after being pricked.

His voice still wouldn't work at all, but the rest of him had improved. His arms were far more mobile than they'd been before he closed his eyes, and he could move his legs enough to where he was almost tempted to try to stand. Remembering what had happened when he tried to overexert before, he really didn't want to attempt to stand up and take the risk of succeeding for just a moment, then losing his energy and passing right out.

Instead, Fox realized that he was on his bed, and his phone was over on the nightstand.

He tried to reach over for it and managed to do so with surprising ease. Fox almost smirked, except that his face wasn't as compliant as his arms were. His hands even obeyed him without a fuss when he told them to grab his phone and unlock it, and if it hadn't been for being manhandled in particularly exhilarating ways by Wolf several times over the past few days, the success would've made for the best feeling he'd had all week. He still couldn't holler for company, even if he called by phone to summon someone, but he had enough dexterity to at least text something to Falco… and not to Wolf.

Maybe he should've gotten Wolf's number from him, way back when Wolf suggested swimming? Would that have been too forward?

The texting effort was halted pretty quickly by the revelation that he'd missed _ten calls_ from Falco over the last day and a half, and the bird had left a fair share of voice messages.

Fox hesitated. Did these voicemails really want to be heard?

"Fox," the voicemail said before Fox could think about it too hard. It was the same voice that had drilled into Fox's head that he _had_ to move on—distant, and with a frosty tone. "I'm sorry for being an ass and probably making you cry. Might just be the booze in my head, but I've been really fucked up to you and it's not your fault. If I know you, you're asleep right now and you've felt like shit since we hung up. I've felt like shit too, and it's my own fault. Dunno what I can say besides that, but when we meet again in person, we'll talk and maybe I can do a better job explaining myself once I've thought things through. Later."

That was the first message of four—no doubt, the next messages would apologize for this one's rudeness, if Falco's words to Wolf were anything to go off of.

Fox realized that this first message had been left while he'd been in Wolf's room. If he'd just spent a little longer by his phone, and hadn't gone to Wolf, then maybe… things could've been different somehow?

At this point, _different_ wasn't something that Fox wanted. He'd learned a lot about Wolf and come to terms with their past, and Wolf was _interested_ in him in spite of it all. Wolf took the rush of flying in a cockpit and brought it to the ground, always keeping Fox on his toes, dangerously perceptive, harsh at times, but also persistently interested even when Fox made some terrible mistake like getting his hand nearly skewered by some alien monster.

Wolf apparently _loved_ Fox, and Fox just about believed it. He couldn't say the same about his own feelings toward Wolf, but between his strong lust toward the older pilot and the strength of Wolf's own attraction to him, Fox felt he earned a chance.

He'd also thought enough about Falco to throw out a lot of his baggage from their flings. His bitterness was gone, especially after Falco earned some extra points really quickly by coming all the way out from Corneria, looking hungover and worn out, just because he thought Fox might need him. Despite a rocky start, he and Wolf had made their peace, and things felt like they'd fall into place pretty well. If things stayed as they were—if Fox just deleted the voicemails and nothing changed from here, it could all stay that way.

Fox's finger hovered over the delete button, but he thought about it some more. Falco had been his best friend for the better part of a decade. He owed the bird better than ignoring him for the sake of convenience… or at least, that's how he justified it to himself as he pressed play.

"It's me again. Bet you thought I was done with you, but now I'm drunk as fuck and you're probably in Wolf's bed, having the brains fucked out of you tonight if he doesn't kill you yet like you know he will."

Fox pressed pause and thought about whether or not he wanted to hear the rest of the message. Falco had that same whining voice that he used back when girls broke up with him—a worse tone than the last message, for certain. He would always get drunk and vent out to Fox, and every time he'd pound the table like a child throwing a tantrum, beer bottles would bounce and clank against it. He never said anything good when he got like this.

Fox braced himself and pressed play to resume the message. If he was really okay with where he and the bird stood, then this wouldn't hurt _too_ badly. And with two rougher personalities like Wolf and Falco around him for the foreseeable future, he'd need to toughen up a lot.

"You probably think you're hot stuff, seducing me and then moving on as soon as you caught my heart. Moving on ain't ever a problem with Fox McCloud, so why wouldn't you go get fucked by the guy who killed your dad, huh?"

Falco stopped to take a couple of heavy, loud breaths into the phone. Fox wondered what he'd been doing to get so out of breath in the first place, and hoped that the next voicemail wasn't going to come from a police station. It wouldn't be the first time Falco had gotten himself into drunken trouble.

"Fine by me. You're bad news and you know it. Go break his heart instead. I'm gonna go off and fuck my way out of this slump. I'll have sex with every bitch I find, all weekend long, and by the time I'm done, I won't even want you anymore. How's it feel to be gotten over, huh? Now go on. Break your precious little Wolf's heart too."

Two harsh taps against the phone screen, where Falco's fingers missed the obnoxiously tiny _end call_ button, and then the message was over.

Fox wasn't sure what to think of that; Falco had just rejected him on that same night, and now he was acting like he was the victim of rejection himself. He definitely didn't sound happy, and Fox didn't understand why.

It was better not to think about it. Fox started the next message.

"The booze is wearing off. I'm alone in my hotel bed and I can't sleep. I wish I could delete both my drunk messages. I miss you a lot right now and I wish I weren't so fucked up in the head. If you don't know what I'm talking about yet, I want you to delete the other two messages I left right now and pretend this is all I left. You can probably guess what the other two were about, and I ain't said shit worth hearing so far anyway."

Fox tried his hardest not to scream in frustration. If he'd just deleted the prior two messages, he could've spared himself a lot _with Falco's blessing_. But how the fuck was he supposed to know to listen to the most recent message first? What if the recent message had been the only one he didn't want to hear?

There was no winning with these things. Fox only succeeded at staying silent because his throat still refused to produce the scream he intended.

"Damn it, though, Fox! I really fucked a lot up, didn't I? Dunno what I'm gonna do, besides just sit here and keep crying. Something in my head just ain't right, and tomorrow I'll be too hungover to figure out what. I don't get why I can't say to your face that I love you too, and I don't know why something feels fucked up every time I try to. And believe me, Fox, I tried my hardest to believe it, and to say it, but that just ain't something I can do even when I'm with my best friend. I fucked up, and it's because something's fucked up deep down in my head. It gets worse every time I think about it, and it sucks for me, and it's not fair to you. I wish… look, I'm hanging up. I've done enough damage by now."

Enough damage? At least he realized it.

Fox checked the next voicemail, and saw that it was about six hours removed from the prior one. He wasted no time in pressing play, figuring it was probably best to just get it over with already.

"Alright. Slept, and my mind's clearer now," Falco said. The edge was off of his voice, and Fox already felt relieved that the worst-case scenario wasn't unfolding. "Canning the vacation a little early. Hope you don't mind that I followed your Arwing's trace to the border of the planet. I got this weird sixth sense sorta thing telling me that maybe you need me, but don't look for me on the surface if you get this and haven't found me yet. I'm boarding Wolf's ship and I sure as fuck ain't landing down there. Hell if I'm parking my ass feathers on some alien planet I have no intel on."

He'd degenerated into his complaining voice, with a harshness and the typical refusal to imply that anything he referred to _might_ not actually be the worst thing in the whole universe.

Falco cleared his throat and spoke a little more gently after a pause.

"But hey, that all aside, I'm figuring things out, and it's been some good thinking. These last few hours have done me a lot of good, and I'm settled on saying there's still just too much I don't know. I've been unfair to you, and I think it's just cuz I'm just confused, projecting blame at you and whatnot. I don't know what I'm gonna do about it all, but I hope you can forgive me for what I've said lately. I think I know why I've pushed you away so much, even if I ain't got a good answer for it. Y'know, there's a lot wrong in my head that I should've been more open about. I seriously can't tell whether I'm into girls, or into guys, or both. I keep looking at you and wondering why I ain't more like mister Lylat Hero. I can't accept my flaws, and I can't make myself believe someone else is gonna accept my flaws like I wish I could. It's hard for me to accept that I might be put up with. I don't wanna go into sappy shit, but because I can't accept myself, it's harder for me to actually believe I can be someone who's worth putting up with. You and I didn't work out together, and I'm sorry for that, but now I've got a clue or two as to why, even if those clues make me think everything sucks. Thinkin' about it, I almost wanna say that there's too much wrong in my head for us to ever work out, cuz as soon as I'm in good standing with you and don't have to work for it, I'll just remind myself that I'm unhappy about being me, and I'll make problems to throw on you. Might also think that should make me say we'll never work, but I ain't thinkin' in terms of _never_ anymore, so here's what I'll say instead. I'm not going to be good for you, or for me, or for anyone, until I fix my perspective and get some forgiveness from myself."

Falco took a deep breath into the mic. It crackled and complained in response, muffling the start of his next sentence just a bit.

"Things coulda been different. Woulda, even, if I'd communicated, or you'd been psychic, or even if I'd just been able to put our _us_ thing higher on my priority list than my dumb insecurities. I'm gonna need time, and I want you to give dating Wolf a chance while I figure out what's wrong with Falco. Someday, you and Wolf might not work out, and maybe I'll be better by then," Falco said, and then he snorted. "Ain't something I'd count on, though, and I won't bank on it. Us being friends who work together—that's the part that matters and the part that's gonna last a lifetime. If you and Wolf are happy together 'til you die and we work as a mercenary trio through to retirement, then great. And if it doesn't, and you hate each other by the end of it, then that's fine too. I'll be around. I'm Team Star Fox for life, and I want you to know it."

Fox breathed a huge sigh of relief. Everything Falco had just said made things much, much easier.

"Haven't heard from you in over a day, though. I'm a little worried, so I'm probably gonna give Wolf a rough time once I see him until I'm sure you're okay. Gonna have to stick around after, too, cuz I'm way too tired to fly back to Corneria in the loaner tin can we got. Might be a little awkward having me around, but it's worth making sure you're alright. I'll see you in a few hours, and… well, I really hope you call me before I get there, just to ease my mind. See ya soon."

Fox turned the phone's screen off and sat it back down on his nightstand.

That had been a lot better than he'd expected.

His mind felt a little hazy, to his annoyance. He shut his eyes again. This wasn't the kind of fatigue that had taken him into a long nap earlier, but rather, it was the kind that a nap could probably cure. His body didn't really want to sleep, and he did want to talk to Falco or Wolf, or preferably both, whenever he got the chance, but he still couldn't talk, and he wanted the haze out of his mind.

Fox closed his eyes, irritated by his physical condition, glad to feel as though it wouldn't endure beyond this next nap. It took a while, but he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Fox swung the door open and stepped forward.

"You're up."

It had been another long nap, despite Fox's initial guess. He wasn't especially pleased with how long he'd been out, but he'd at least woken up feeling almost like the paralysis had never happened.

"Yeah," Fox said, closing Wolf's door behind him. "Not quite perfect yet, but my body's started listening to me again."

Wolf sat on his bed. As per usual, he wore his underwear, but he didn't so much as look at Fox while reading through something on his laptop. He hardly even stole an aside glance as Fox approached, and his face bore the hint of a scowl.

"Should clear up real quick now that you can talk again," Wolf said in an empty, matter-of-fact voice. "At least, the hazy feeling left pretty quickly for me once my throat finally started getting better."

"Good to know," Fox replied.

Wolf still didn't look away from his computer, which had Fox peeved after a few moments of expectant silence. That wasn't a good sign. Fox took a deep breath and took the plunge.

"So what are you up to?"

Wolf sighed.

"Thinking about everything that could go wrong from here," he replied before scrolling down the trackpad, still staring at the screen as though Fox weren't standing right there at the foot of his bed.

The answer sort of amused Fox, to the point that the vulpine snorted at it.

"Like what?" Fox said. "Trying to pay off your thirty-thousand-credit bounty with one tiny little bag of alien gold?"

From where they stood, that was the only major obstacle left to them. It amazed Fox that Wolf seemed so unconcerned with how the one thing they'd initially planned to fix was still not at all accounted for. Yet somehow, he seemed profoundly concerned with something else entirely.

"I told you. The bounty won't be a problem anymore," Wolf assured him.

Fox didn't quite have the gall to ask Wolf how he intended to pay his bounty off just yet—not given the circumstances. He held the very real fear of biting off more than he could chew. If he had to, he could probably take out a loan as the leader of Team Star Fox, and then let the Cornerian officials bitch at him later for using it to pay off Wolf's bounty. He'd be glad to, even, as long as Wolf didn't start second-guessing his decision to join before Fox could take that course.

"Alright," Fox said, and he cursed himself for not knowing how to bait Wolf out just yet. "Then what's got you looking so down? And what the hell are you reading?"

"Too much, and pulp trash, respectively," Wolf replied. Fox growled something beneath his breath, and at the sound of it, the faintest hint of a smile came to Wolf's face.

"Too much, huh? Did Falco piss you off already?" Fox asked. "Wondering what you got yourself into? Is that why you're upset? Is that why I can't pry your attention from a computer screen full of what you call pulp trash?"

To Fox's surprise, Wolf shut the computer down in an instant and set it under his bed, sighing.

"Fine," Wolf said, scooting to the other side of his bed and leaving a conspicuous space in front of Fox. He crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back against the wall behind his bed. His head faced about thirty degrees off away from Fox, the back of his head obscuring most of his face from Fox's angle. "I'd have preferred to put this off another day, but that's starting to look like a bad idea. You can stand there, or you can take a seat beside me here on the bed, but I'm trying something different. No contact. Not eyes, not hands, and nothing else. We're settling thing with words, and I'm going to know where you stand. Any questions?"

Fox wasn't sure what to say to that, and then he realized that his eyes were fixed on Wolf, and that without a laptop covering the pair of tight black briefs, his focus would be elsewhere if he didn't take Wolf's approach and look away as well.

He took his place beside Wolf and mimicked the pose Wolf too, facing the other way so that only the wall met his gaze.

"Plenty," Fox said.

"Good."

Fox cleared his throat. Phrasing and tone were everything here, and he knew it.

"First, are we cool?" Fox asked. "Are you upset at me? Are you upset at Falco? You said you'd join Star Fox if I helped you here with paying off your bounty, which you say won't be a problem, and that means I've lived up to my half of the deal. Is something going to keep you from living up to that promise?"

"Join _Star Fox_? Funny choice of words. I promised I'd be on a team with you and Falco," Wolf corrected. "But that aside, yeah, we're cool. And no, nothing's stopping me from joining your crew. I'm far more committed now than I was when I made that promise. I never even thought to hope for a chance like this."

Fox cleared his throat, closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He steeled his resolve as fully as he could before he opened his eyes again.

"Good," Fox said. "Then I'll even the playing field."

He took his belt off first, then his pants, then his socks, and then his shirt until both canids were down to their underwear. He threw them over in a conspicuous ball, sending them over Wolf's head and through his field of vision so that Wolf would know full well what had happened.

The two sat there, neither one commenting on the gesture, or even acknowledging it. Wolf's scent filled Fox's nose from up close, though, and the softness of the sheets against his bare fur tempted him to roll over onto Wolf and cut this exchange of words short, just like Wolf had done to him a few too many times over the last few days.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, and convinced his body to lower his rising dick. If things went well, there would be time for that later, but Wolf was right. A words-only conversation wasn't what Fox had expected at first, but it was long overdue.

Finally, Wolf sighed heavily and broke the silence.

"You get what's got me worried, right?" Wolf said.

Fox had no idea. Maybe it was getting along with Falco. Maybe it was getting along with Fox, for that matter, considering that they had a habit of being at each other's throats. Maybe, beneath it all, he really _was_ worried about the bounty, and he'd been in denial.

"Maybe?" Fox replied. "But you don't need to worry about Falco cutting out on us over a cock-measuring competition. He's used to playing rough, and it'd be that way even if he weren't loyal through and through."

"Getting along with Falco, huh? That's your best guess?" Wolf chuckled. "I ran Sargasso for a few years, and I've made peace with rougher-edged thugs. Try seeing this my way. You, my old rival Fox McCloud, come on board saying you want me to form a new group with you and the bird even though we supposedly hate each other and there hasn't been a word between us since I saved your ass from the Aparoids. It all sounds too good to be true, so I'm suspicious of your offer to help me out, but I humor you. Suddenly, I get you in a swimsuit, and you don't even resist when I get up in your personal space like I never dreamed I'd get to. Within a few days, you've let it slip that you're sexually attracted to other men, and that you might even date them if they're the right fit, and I exploit that, and it's easier than I would've thought. I've managed to very nearly get in your pants with no resistance or complaint, and you actually _want_ me to fuck you by the time I've been at it for just a few days."

Fox couldn't see Wolf's face, and had to guess what was happening without his sight, easy as it was to do. Wolf took a pause to chuckle like a cartoon villain, acid in his words, and then he continued.

"So there has to be a catch, and I figure it's the bird who just broke your heart. I'm smarter with my heart than most fools, so I tell you to settle your score with him, and you do," Wolf said. "To my amazement, that works out. Finally, it seems like things just fell into place, and I tip my hand and make it fully clear that I'm crazy about you. Then I admit that I've been crazy about you since we met in the skies, because I'm fucked up in the head and want someone to compete endlessly with, who just might kill me someday and I wouldn't even complain. So now what happens, when we both survive a fucking alien fungus planet by some sort of divine intervention? That son of a feathered bitch comes back with no warning at all, and he _does_ care about you after all, enough to ditch his vacation and his casanova time just to point a gun at me, and all he even wanted was to make sure you're okay, so he loves you after all, and you loved him first. How the hell am I supposed to feel stepping in between that, huh?"

It was Fox's turn to chuckle at Wolf for his naivete. Fox wondered how many times in the future he'd get the chance to wear these shoes.

"You're supposed to feel like I chose you, and like I want you the most," Fox replied. "And the choice gets easier the more I think it through. I mean, love is a strong word, and you tipped your hand back in the ruins, and I can't say I feel the same for you that you do for me. But while you've been sitting here moping, I've been thinking things over, and the more I think about it, the more I want you. Not Falco, and not any of my other exes. You."

Wolf snorted.

"Cute new tune," Wolf said. "Care to explain why you're singing it?"

"Because I've finally thought it over," Fox replied. "We're the rare case where two once-in-a-generation talents happen to be in the same generation by rare cosmic chance. Yeah, we've had bad blood, but we also _love_ what we're the best at, and we compete, and we fight and scrap by default because that's how Fox McCloud and Wolf O'Donnell act when they find an equal. I think we might actually _need_ each other, or just someone similar, because no one else I've met seems to even understand the kind of respect I have for you. Plus, we're not that different! We've both seen shitty times, borne the weight of the world, and honed a skill to the point where we're nearly unrivaled in all the universe, so who the hell else am I going to find that's going to keep me interested after I start feeling like good sex isn't enough anymore? Do you know how many girls, and even how many guys, I've gone through all because no one cares about the kind of things that are at the center of my world? You actually care about endless improvement, discipline, and pushing limits, and you know what makes me tick because it's what makes you tick too, and that's not even getting into how sexually attracted I am to you. I have faith that you and I can balance each other some, and we can become endlessly better together as pilots. I want that life more than I ever thought I would. That is, I want you. I hope I don't need to say it again for you to believe me."

Wolf breathed loudly through his nose a few times, and Fox's heart nearly sank for a moment as he almost assumed that he'd somehow made Wolf mad, or that he'd earned nothing more than an embittered chuckle; the breathing was sharp and sounded agitated.

"Is that so?" Wolf said. Fox still found himself just a little worried. It wasn't like Wolf to just sit there and listen for this long… or was this what happened when Fox finally decided to let loose and run his mouth? "You mean it? All of it? And you're not leaving out the caveats, or the buts?"

Or perhaps, was Wolf actually having trouble figuring out what to say?

Could that even happen?

"The buts?" Fox replied. "We were mortal enemies. We ruined each other's lives for years-long periods at a time. You're an ass and I'm a cautious prude who's fresh out of a breakup and can't help but be a hornball while you're around. Do I need to spell out every little reason we wouldn't work, and go through why I want to ignore the red flags to see if the pros really do outweigh the cons?"

The question hung in the air.

Not being able to see Wolf was starting to make Fox especially anxious. The contemplative pause made Fox regret asking such a heavy question; he hadn't thought through a list of cons, even if he'd thought through it all by now, and talking about why they _shouldn't_ work just might make him lose heart.

"No," Wolf finally said. Fox's relief didn't last long. "You do need to address one more thing, though. You know the damage you caused to Sargasso? You know how you wrecked my hideout so badly that I had to fucking _leave_ it after years of putting the stronghold together, just to have Corneria's fleet not run the place over and endanger the crew I'd worked so hard to stabilize?"

Fox rubbed his temples. The slow build in Wolf's speaking volume made him wonder how he could possibly convince Wolf that it's worth dropping after all.

"Yeah," Fox said.

He bit his tongue and thought instead of continuing, but to his surprise, Wolf didn't wait for more. He just snorted, bitter or amused or both, and carried on.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret," Wolf said. "Sargasso's not what you need to address here, and I was never really pissed off about it. Got a dogfight out of you from it, saved your ass not too long after, ended up getting some good time in the air, and the Sargasso gig had me feeling tied down by the time you showed up. What I need from you is assurance that you've thought it through, and that your mind is still made up. Tell me why you're willing to give me a chance after what happened between me and your dad."

Shit.

That was the question Fox really didn't want to hear. The topic just didn't sit well with him. He'd thought about it, and even with how things had played out years ago, and even with his father gone and Wolf being associated with it forever in his mind, he wanted to give Wolf a chance.

Not just a chance. He wanted things to work between them. He wanted to wake up every day and have the only pilot in the world who could rival him wake up a few feet away, and cuddle with him on weekends until it was time to get out of bed and think about flight sims, or going out on the town, or kicking each other's asses.

But his dad. How the hell was he supposed to just get over that?

"I don't want to talk about it," Fox admitted.

"I know," Wolf pressed. "For once, though, I'm not dropping it. I'm vulnerable here, damn it. Do you know how tough that is for a guy like me? You're either going to address the topic until it's resolved, or you're going to have to live with not getting another chance for a long fucking time. Got it?"

"Got it," Fox said quickly. "But not addressing it is the solution. The best thing I can do is think about it as little as I can. I've thought about it, Wolf, and that's what I decided. You and I just might work as a couple. I think you're interesting, capable, hot as hell, and more empathetic than you let on. I'm ready to commit, and ready to give you… well, you know. A different kind of peek into my mind than the one you already got, along with some other perks that would make me hard if I started talking about them, so don't get me started. I want you. But I'm not ready to reconcile falling for you with losing my dad. Can we both settle on that?"

Fox actually sat up and looked over at Wolf, who kept his eye shut and responded to Fox's movement by pressing his ears back closer to his head.

"Yes," Wolf replied. His good eye opened. "Kind of leaves me with another question, though."

Fox waited patiently for Wolf to gather his nerve.

"Now what?"

Fox chuckled. This was, at least in theory, the easy part. The grilling, the uncertainty, and the threats were all out of the way.

He leaned his head on Wolf's chest first and found it even firmer than he'd expected beneath the thick gray fur. Then the rest of his body inched closer to Wolf, until he'd cuddled up to the unresponsive lupine with his head reaching just up to the larger canid's jaw, his back against Wolf's belly.

"Do I need to say it?"

Just in case he hadn't been perfectly clear already, Fox pressed himself against Wolf, closing any gaps between them.

Wolf sighed.

"Hate to say it, but if this is going where I think it's going, this isn't the time," Wolf said. At the same time, his arms placed themselves on Fox's shoulders. They twisted Fox around so that Wolf's body spooned him, and Wolf pulled Fox in and squeezed him tight. Things were calm and warm and nice for a moment, and then Wolf squeezed harder, less comfortably. "And don't you _dare_ get the idea that not fucking you now means I'm not interested. Any other time, I'll fuck you to tears. Expect it. I might sneak into your room, might ambush you on your way back from the shower, and I'll dare you to tell me to stop. I'll dare you to pretend you don't want it, and you won't even be able to fake it. So don't think for a second that I'm not interested. This just isn't the time. I need to think."

For a moment, Fox had his doubts, but then there it was. That weird warm, fuzzy feeling that came from being manhandled and kind of even threatened by someone he respected.

Wolf was brash, irreverent, and abrasive even in declaring his affection. Somehow, though, that felt like exactly what Fox wanted. There might never be closure between them over the wrongs of the past, but there didn't need to be. Dwelling on that would only make it impossible for him to capitalize on what was available to him—someone who was both attracted to him, and attractive to him, and could rival him both in skill as a pilot and in the intensity of his competitive spirit.

As Wolf held Fox close, breath tickling his neck, Fox could feel the sincerity of Wolf's words. At any point in the future, this scene of a fox in the arms of a larger, stronger canid could escalate into a session that neither one would ever forget.

That wasn't going to happen here, but Fox knew it awaited him somewhere out in the future. And for the moment, he could just enjoy Wolf's body heat, and the earthy scent that he'd never have expected to know so well.

"I might hold you to those threats," Fox warned.

"And I might make you regret it if you make me prove myself," Wolf replied.

Seconds passed, and then minutes. Wolf slowly loosened his hold on Fox, and they repositioned a few times, neither canid bothering to suppress the growing bulges that stretched what little covering they wore. Fox turned back and forth a few times as they adjusted their places, allowing Wolf to run his hands through his fur, grabbing Wolf's ass in turn, tempting Wolf to go back on his decision not to fuck him now while knowing full well what the limits had been set.

They sat still for a while before Wolf finally said it.

"You should go."

So Fox nodded, got out of the bed, and left.

It was a strange feeling, knowing that all that had come of the meeting was the promise that something _would_ happen in the future. But still, he took the promise at face value—Fox fully believed that before long, their inhibitions would be stored away in the recesses of their minds for the sake of a relationship rooted in rivalry and mutual admiration.

Beyond that, he knew that the ball was in his court. Wolf was seriously, hopelessly smitten with him, and while he'd probably continue to keep his cool as much as he could, there would be more nights like this, where Fox could see just how affected Wolf could get over his feelings toward the only other pilot out there who'd ever posed a real threat.

Time would tell how things went when the dust of their recent adventure settled. Admiration and lust might make Fox really love Wolf back someday, or perhaps they'd be at each other's throats again before long. For that matter, _both_ might come to pass.

That was the kind of thing Fox would have to deal with one day at a time, though. He went back to his room, only realizing he'd forgotten his clothes as he closed the door behind him, and abandoned the thought with a shrug.

There were some arrangements to be made, some phone conversations to be had, and some acquisitions to look into.

Team Star Fox wasn't just a two-member crew anymore, and with at least _some_ clarity on where he stood with his team, it was time to look ahead.

* * *

AN: Again, there's going to be one more chapter after this, in which a few more loose ends (not many) are resolved. As of posting this chapter, I've written a bit of a sequel to this fic as well, but it's **extremely** adult in needlessly explicit ways, and I'm neither sure whether or not to post it here, nor whether or not I'll write it to the level of completion that might allow for posting.

So yeah. Thanks again for reading, and I hope to post the final part soon.

P.S. I didn't edit punctuation


	11. Going On

AN: This is the final chapter of this fic.

I've treated it like most of the other chapters of this fic, which essentially means that I've given it minimal editing and had it distort in my head over many weeks. While I've stuck to the same overall plan/story outline (which is serious a file that I wrote at the start and have been referring to since May 2016) for this whole time, it's sort of reshaped itself over almost a year now, and… to put it mildly, I've been disappointed in myself for changing its direction, and then not feeling like I made it the Greatest Fic Ever like I thought I could back at the beginning.

That being said, I think I have a better feel for all three of the significant characters than I did at the start. It's been difficult, because of how seriously I took this at the start, but I've mostly come to terms with it now, and realized where I stand on a lot of things I never even thought about toward the beginning. I've actually become a lot more fond of Falco, for example. And I've realized that I literally don't have to try for Wolf's dialogue, because being a cocky rude fox-crazy asshole just comes naturally to me.

It's been a real ride. Even though I told myself I wouldn't do so, I've looked back on some of the old chapters and realized that my writing style has actually changed noticeably from the start, which makes this fic sort of incoherent in my mind. But while it makes for a bit weaker of a Fox/Wolf story, I think that makes for a decent narrative of my last year. I've gone from unconfident student to young professional with good time off and decent enough pay to afford things like furry conventions and… uh… is it too much information if I start talking about my frivolous, gay-as-hell underwear shopping? It probably is, even though this fic has been plenty clear about how "relentlessly gay" (look it up) I am.

Ahem.

Anyway, a lot has changed, and I've learned a lot from what I'd normally consider to be a failure. I'm putting another AN at the bottom of this chapter to avoid spoilers, but before that, I just want to thank everyone who's stuck with me for this long, through all my negativity and the silly delays I've had between chapters. Honestly, some of the reviews I got convinced me not to quit when I was considering washing my hands and being done with it. Having people take that much time out to write what they thought about my fic means more than I can say, so seriously, I'd like to give a special thank you to everyone who wrote a review.

I'm going to continue to be a pessimistic bastard who fails to live up to his potential. But I've been convinced by a number of things, including you all, to at least keep trying.

This last chapter is short, and intended to tie up a few loose ends. I do leave a few loose ends, of course, partly out of laziness and partly because I think they're better unresolved, but this is essentially how I intended to end the story way back in May 2016 when I finished planning.

Enjoy, and seriously, thanks for reading.

* * *

"They televised a few of the senate hearings," Wolf explained, staring out the window at the outskirts of Corneria City. "I watched him talk shit on me practically every other week on Lylat-wide television, and he blamed me for every problem Corneria had. It's all I ever was to Lylat. A scapegoat."

"I watched it too," Falco added, reclining on the couch of their loaner carrier ship. "I see why you're pissed, but man. Guess I'm lucky there's no recording of me trying to talk Fox out of recruiting you, huh?"

Wolf shrugged.

"Either way, Space Dynamics ought to set us up damn well once they know what we have," he said, tossing a fist-sized cloth bag up and down like a baseball. It made a satisfying thudding noise every time it landed in his palm.

"I'll take your word on it," Fox agreed, mostly because Wolf _still_ wouldn't tell him what this wild backup plan was, even now that they were only half an hour from the downtown office that Wolf had made a destination of.

An uncomfortable thought came to Fox's mind at random, as it had many times since he'd made the decision to hire Wolf. It was silly, but it had been bothering him for some time. His ears sank low to his head.

"Problem?" Wolf asked.

"Just thinking," Fox said. "Starting off with a new team... I've been thinking about it, and with you founding Star Wolf and me leading Star Fox, I'm willing to compromise on the name. What do you think of Team All Star?"

Falco's face was cool and diplomatic, but Wolf had no reservations in giving Fox what was possibly the most disappointed, lost-for-words look he'd seen in his whole life.

"You were serious," Wolf lamented, hanging his head low and shaking it slowly.

He closed a fist and corrected his posture.

"Star Fox," Wolf insisted. "Even if I did have a serious grudge against it, the name carries a lot of weight. Arguably more than the last name McCloud."

Falco breathed a sigh of relief.

"Glad that's settled," he said. "Now kiss and make up, would ya?"

Fox picked up the kitchen dishrag. He left his seat on the stool at the kitchen room counter, walked the dishrag over, and spread it over the bird's head from behind before walking back and sitting back beside Wolf.

"The day Wolf proposes kiss-and-make-up is the day I open a smuggling post in Meteo," Fox said.

"Yeah. But anyway, do you both get why I have to do what I'm about to do?"

Falco nodded his head.

"Of course I don't," Fox replied, an edge in his voice. "I've just accepted that I'm not talking you out of it."

Wolf shrugged his shoulders.

"Good enough. You two girl scouts ready to go?"

* * *

Fox stepped into the office first. Typical of government buildings in downtown Corneria, it was a spacious office room with tile floors and well-chosen dark wooden furniture. Of course, due to the nature of the work that went on in these parts, the imminent conflict soon to come was also typical of this sort of building. Considering that, and having worked with politicians plenty of times before, it almost brought a smile to Fox's face.

"Before you press the alarm, I want you to listen to me," Fox said.

Senator Trolvas looked up from his keyboard and monitor, his initially worried face transitioning to a confused expression with angry-old-man eyebrows once he recognized Fox.

The condemning look was typical of the old dogs who think they run the world and all the worlds that their world ran, but Fox had learned to ignore it over the years, and also to generally ignore senators whenever he could afford to. The attitude was only one of millions of reasons that Fox had mostly stayed out of the political arena for so many years of being a war hero.

"I've brought someone to speak to you. This encounter will be words, and only words, and there's going to be no retaliation from you. If you violate those terms, keep in mind that I'm the one and only war hero, Fox McCloud, and when you run for reelection in November, I will _ruin_ your campaign and make a strong try toward ruining the rest of your life, too. Got it?"

The old dog scoffed from his desk, indignantly adjusting his silky crimson tie as he stood up.

"What the hell are you playing at, McCloud? Last we talked, you had no interest in supporting Proposition twenty-six. We have no business today."

Fox sighed.

"This isn't my explanation to give," Fox replied. "And neither of us have time to argue, anyway. I've told you nothing bad should happen, so can you just agree not to let this get beyond words so that someone else can answer your question?"

Trolvas rolled his eyes.

"I'll play your game," he conceded, growling under his breath. "Now I expect this promised answer, and be quick; I'm very busy."

Wolf stepped in from outside, hearing his cue. Fox retreated to the back of the room, soon joined by Falco.

Meanwhile, Wolf first removed his sunglasses, and then his hood. Anger took over the impatience in the the old senator's eyes as he recognized his guest, and he bared his teeth through his saggy, stately bulldog jaw.

Trolvas reached toward the glass lid under which the bright red alarm button rested, only to hesitate at the sound of Wolf's protests.

"Touch that glass and your campaign is dead," Wolf warned. "And it might not be the only thing. We've promised _words_ , senator, and you have plenty of words from the past six years to explain for me. To list a few..."

Wolf's phone, already in his hand, flashed on as he held it conspicuously on the side of his good eye, as his sun-shades disguise had required the vintage eyepatch rather than his usual bionics.

"Wolf O'Donnell is the single greatest enemy to Corneria that remains, and I won't rest until I see him dead," Wolf read. He scrolled down and began another quote. "Wolf O'Donnell is still out there, alive and kicking, and my bill proposes surveillance so we can bring that son of a bitch back here to be paraded around in chains."

"And now you're here, hoping to assassinate me," Trolvas spat.

Wolf growled beneath his breath.

"I'm here to _talk_. Can you explain to me _why_ , exactly, I've been your personal boogeyman? Can you explain why you've blocked my pardon _twice_ when I'm the single biggest reason you weren't assimilated or just plain blown up in this very building just a few months ago? Admit it. You saw _my_ Wolfen right outside your window, shooting down the Aparoids that would've destroyed your city and ended your life. Try telling me you weren't sitting right here when it happened."

The frustration surfaced just a bit as Wolf spoke, but Fox was relieved. Contrary to his brash tendencies, Wolf was keeping his stoicism just as he'd promised to. Fox knew Trolvas for his difficulty and his unwillingness to budge, and he knew that nothing good would come of the encounter, but Wolf was at least keeping his promise of not letting it get especially bad.

"Hmph. The nerve of you criminals, accusing _me_ of wrongdoing!" Trolvas said. "Why don't _you_ explain why you worked for Andross, sabotaged the Fichina weather base, and ran a criminal smuggler empire in Meteo for two whole years? Not to mention, James McCloud-"

"You shut the fuck up about my dad!" Fox snapped.

The senator's mouth closed quickly. He took a loud swallow.

Fox took a deep breath to calm himself, but calming down in full wasn't worth the effort. He continued with a little more moderation, as if he really gave a damn.

"I'm well aware of what happened to my dad, and even before I got to know Wolf better, it didn't stop me from asking for his pardon. You were the reason my efforts didn't go through, and that's why I'm even here. But since I'm here, let's get this straight. If I ever hear you bring my dad up again for politics or rhetoric, you'll wish you were never born. Got it?"

All eyes fixed on Fox, and Trolvas actually seemed _scared_ of this side of the war hero he'd never happened to see in all their years of strained post-Andross cooperation. No one dared to say a word.

Falco lightly nudged Fox's ribs and the vulpine unclenched his fists.

"Whatever. You heard me loud and clear. Just go on already," Fox said.

Wolf wasted no time.

"Explanations for my crimes," Wolf said. "I was a mercenary back then, just like I'm a mercenary now."

"You're a damn criminal now," Trolvas corrected in a low voice.

"Only because you insist on blocking my pardon," Wolf said. "You, _personally_ , have been my biggest political detractor in all of Lylat, calling me a villain just for protecting my own hide after I stood against Corneria in a war years and years ago. I see just how convenient that is for you. I chose Venom's side in the war before Andross finished going mad, and I'm a good enough pilot to not have died for it, so now I'm an easy campaign platform for old dogs like you. Districts vote for you if you promise to waste public money trying to catch me, and I bet I'm also pretty handy to mention when you need an excuse to propose military expansion and infringe on privacy rights."

Wolf narrowed his eyebrows.

"Isn't that right?"

Trolvas grunted.

"Are you done?" the bulldog asked. "I want you out of my face."

"Then I want my pardon. And I want you to listen to Fox McCloud when he tells you I saved his life _twice_ in the crisis that just about personally killed you," Wolf replied. "So here's what you do next. Absolve me of guilt for being on the wrong side of a war, pardon my smuggling years out of gratitude for saving this whole damn planet from the Aparoids, and let me move on as part of McCloud's team. Do that, and we'll never have to see each other again."

The bulldog shut his eyes with a strained face. Then, he smirked, sitting down in his chair.

"You didn't think this through very well, did you?" Trolvas said. "None of you did, or this talk would've been a phone call."

"You're mistaken," Wolf replied. "This had to be in person, or I'd never have the closure I need. Doesn't matter whether or not you do the decent thing. I'm getting what I want, both during and after this talk, no matter what you decide to do here. If you don't comply, I can and _will_ pay off my bounty, and then you can flush your senate seat down the toilet. This is your chance to apologize."

Three short chuckles answered Wolf, and then a pause.

"You know what might keep me in office even with someone like Fox McCloud campaigning against me?" he asked.

Trolvas reached his arm under his desk, and a faint clicking sound met Fox's sharp vulpine ears. Whirring came from the ceiling, and the old dog put on a shit-eating grin.

"A dead wolf smuggler who Lylat hates as strongly as Corneria City loves Star Fox."

Turrets descended from the ceiling from all sides of the room, and Fox knew what he had to do, just as well as he knew that he only had seconds to do it. He charged from the back of the room toward the senator, ready to push the old bastard out of his way and call the turrets off. They folded out slowly, but they were very particular about targeting unrecognized faces, and there were far too many of them.

"You're not playing hero this time, pup," Wolf grumbled.

Fox never made it to the desk; Wolf shoved him back to the corner of the room, and Fox fell right on his ass onto one of the office chairs, powerless to stop the turrets as the warming noises began.

It happened out of the blue.

A noise emanated throughout the room, not unlike the sort of clicking noise that might be heard in an 8-bit video game. Purple light radiated outward from Wolf on all sides, forming the shape of an ellipse, encompassing him as the warming sounds grew louder.

The turrets fired, and the bullets glanced right off of the purple shield. Each turret melted and smoked, and for a few seconds before the office air filtering system sucked the smoke away, the room was filled with the stench of burnt electronics.

Wolf growled a low growl of justified wrath.

"I'm taking these things to Space Dynamics. They'll pay us enough to clear my name without your help, and then I'm part of Team Star Fox for as long as they'll have me," Wolf said. "As for you, though, you're _through_."

Wolf drew each word out for emphasis, brandishing the reflector at the senator with one hand before doing similarly with his middle finger on the other.

Three pilots left the room without another word, leaving a mortified bulldog to his ruined office.

* * *

AN:

Alright. So it's over, and you're probably wishing I'd done just about anything else with the ending?

I dunno. It's no secret that I'm a huge fan of the Smash Bros franchise, and I basically wanted this to sort of be an origin story of the reflectors that they use. I also wanted Wolf to angst just a little bit more about his mistreatment by the Cornerian government, and this was the ending I had in mind way before I made up my mind for good on how to handle Falco and the parts of the story where Fox and Wolf get physical.

So what happens next? Why did I decide to end things here?

Lots of things, and lots of reasons. Wolf obviously joins Star Fox, and Space Dynamics buys the reflectors, reproduces crude versions of them while trying to refine the technology for ships (it won't ever work the way they want it to, or that'd be game-breaking), and Wolf pays off his bounty.

With this being Lylat, a new adventure does indeed come to pass, and Team Star Fox saves a whole bunch of places from one particularly menacing threat. And I'm never going to write that out, even though I have plenty of details in my head about how it goes down. Instead, I'm thinking I'd like to write another fic that takes place _after_ that conflict, with Wolf narrating the whole thing in first person.

The new fic wouldn't be like this one, despite being a sequel. It'd take place on a beach planet with tons more characters than just Fox, Wolf, and Falco. It'd be be _full_ of gay sex, and it would have Fox and Wolf already together as boyfriends who know each other well and are already very aware of what the other is into. It'd draw a lot from my day-to-day life, and highlight things like my love for coffee, my hate for crowds, my feeling old while my twenties pass me by, and why I freaking wish I had someone to cuddle with.

So yeah. I don't know how to go about posting a thoroughly smutty fic on this particular site. I'll probably just do my usual thing of, like, deciding that I definitely have a pair of balls and won't be crushed if FFN decides to ban me for writing explicit Fox/Wolf sex on a fic that's rated MATURE anyway. But I'll probably also post it somewhere else, like Furaffinity or maybe SoFurry.

As for other loose ends, though, Falco. Why am I not having him resolve things with Fox a little more?

There are some things in my personal life that don't really need to be resolved, and probably are better off not brought up. Sometimes, you're close to someone, and you end up getting hurt because you're the one who cares more. It might just hurt a little bit to bring these things up, and it might also be better to not bring these things up, and just try to be friends because things were better when that's how it was between you.

That's sort of how I see it. If that doesn't clear things up, then think about it for a while, and if it's still not clear… well, maybe I'm just weird. But I did give it some thought, and I thought it better to not resolve things there.

Anyway, enough about the characters and story decisions.

I want to thank you all again for making it through 60k+ words of space animal stuff that I honestly only even started on a whim in the first place. This isn't the end of my Fox/Wolf stuff, so I'd like to post contact info.

Telegram: TLDRotter

Discord: tldrotter

Twitter: Voltatrice

Furaffinity: Voltatrice

SoFurry: Don't have one yet, will probably make one eventually and use the name Voltatrice

And that's about it.

I'm going to wrap things up before I get carried away. Special shout-out to Jaslazul for basically making me start this in the first place, and a special shout-out to Viru for making me believe in myself just a little.

Thanks again to all my readers. See you next time.


End file.
